Future us
by sanime04
Summary: The fights between 17-year-old Sam and John have gotten more frequent and more damaging. Sam plans to leave...eventually. But what happens when a crisis in 2016 create a hole in time and the Winchesters meet face to face with their future selves. What will John think of his boys? How will the boys react to what they've become? What will be the price for getting them back home safe?
1. Fighting against the Life

**A/N Hello! I am a long-time SPN fan and fanfic reader, but a new writer. I'll probably have some mistakes so bear with me please(or write a comment). I'd also appreciate if someone would at one point offer to beta for me. This idea hasn't left my head for ages so I decided to finally set it free from the confines of my mind.**

 **What you may want to know... There are going to be spoilers up to season 11(don't know about season 12 yet). I won't meddle with whatever the awesome writers of Supernatural have planned for season 12. It's gonna be cannon...I think. :)**

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Chapter 1 - Fighting against the Life

At the age of seventeen Sam knows he's different. He had always been strange from everyone else; at least from the normal people.

However, this was something else entirely. He was different from his family – from his overbearing father and his loyal, protective older brother.

Needless to say - it hurt. He was annoyed and easily irritable in the day, but at night, when his brother was sound asleep and his father had finally collapsed from exhaustion, it hurt. It hurt so bad Sam could have cried, but he didn't. He was a Winchester. With that name came honor, pride, and utter stubbornness. Winchester men didn't show weakness, they buried it deep inside and locked it with thousand different locks and hoped that they accidentally didn't rip them open.

So when a new hunt came up and John gruffly ordered them to pack their stuff as quickly as possible and leave the God forgotten hole, which was their motel room, Sam made a face, growled under his nose, but complied. He would have said a word - or ten - to John, but the warm squeeze on his shoulder tied his tongue in knots and he did what he had done all his life. He listened to his brother.

However, the fact that with every day it seemed to get harder and harder added to the already existing pain in his heart.

Eventually, they found themselves in Lebanon, Kansas, where his dad thought a poltergeist was terrorizing the local church. There were no dead bodies, but that was just a matter of time. It was always a possibility. One they couldn't always avoid and which brought so much unnecessary pain and heartbreak in Sam's life he sometimes felt like drowning in it.

"Got us a room." John Winchester pulled open the door and sat down, handing the key to Dean. Sam noticed number eleven on the grayish key-ring as it was passed in front of him. Great. In front of him was another night of trying to share the room with two grown men. Lately, he seemed to prefer abandoned scary houses with a lot of space rather than cheap, small motel rooms.

"What's the plan?" Dean asked while John steered the black muscle car to the parking lot in front of their room. Sam noticed that the number consisted of two different colored digits. He didn't have to be a genius to know what that usually told about the room. He hoped the job would be easy enough and they will be out of the dump by the start of the next week.

"…am? SAM!" His father's sharp shout pulled him back from self-pity and he glanced outside. Dean was already at the door trying to open the door while balancing out the weapons' bag and his own duffle. "Stop dreaming." John grumbled and Sam tried not to think about the shadow of disappointment, which seemed to never leave his father's features. At least not when he spoke to him.

"Get some shut eye, boys!" He ordered once they were settled inside and had done their routine security measures. "I'll go gather some information on the church."

"At the bar?" The words slipped past Sam's lips before he had a chance to think them through.

"Sam!" He heard Dean hiss at him, but his eyes wouldn't leave John's suddenly enraged face.

"What did you say?"

"It 10pm." Sam decided to go for the kill. "Where else would you go?"

"Do you think you're being smart?" Sam tried to mask the shivers that ran down his spine at his father's voice. The room suddenly got even smaller than it already was.

"Just forget it." He considered his options and decided to give up. "Do what you want."

Sam turned away before John could insist on starting a fight and quickly locked himself in the bathroom. Only seconds later he heard the front door shut as well and sighed. Now dad would definitely be gone for the whole night.

"What's the matter with you, Sam?" He heard Dean's annoyed voice and allowed his head to thud against the dirty white tiled wall. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." He whispered to himself, fully acknowledging the fact that he was trying to fool himself. Dean couldn't hear him. No one could. He bumped his head against the wall one more time and squeezed his eyes shut.

The pain was getting worse. He couldn't take it anymore. This was not his life. He couldn't pretend to be okay with it anymore. To deal with the pain, gore, and fear which came with their lifestyle. It was eating away at him. He was betraying himself.

And there was something worse.

By having these thoughts alone, he felt like he was betraying Dean. The most important person in his life. The one who kept taking care of him, who supported him and loved him no matter how many stunts he had pulled.

The problem was that Sam knew; if he went through with his plan, which was still foggy and uncertain around the edges, he wasn't sure Dean would take him back anymore.

In the world he was living in the word 'university' could be just as dangerous as a silver knife to a shapeshifter. For him it wouldn't cut flesh, it would tear apart something much, much deeper and more valuable.

"Sam?" The voice outside changed its tone to worried and Sam just barely swallowed a sob. If Dean knew what he thought about he wouldn't worry anymore, he would probably rear back and punch him. "Dude, don't monopolize the bathroom."

Sam let out a pathetic laugh at his brother's weak attempt at humor and gathered himself together.

"Wait a minute." He flushed the toilet and rinsed his face before stepping out again and meeting face to face with searching green eyes.

"Finally." The snickering tone didn't match his serious eyes, but Sam played along. "What? Did you turn into a girl and locked yourself in the bathroom to cry?"

"Yeah, right." Sam pushed past him roughly. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean barked before disappearing behind bathroom's door.

They didn't talk about it anymore. Dean didn't go out that night and Sam didn't ask why. It was late and they were both tired so they each slumped in their own bed and tried to fall asleep. Sam was used to the thin motel walls and the sound of an occasional car driving by, but for some reason, even the annoying fly buzzing in the corner of the room felt too loud. It was quiet enough to lull Dean to sleep, but it felt like on the edge of deafening to Sam.

It was no wonder that when he heard the door slam open and their father stumble inside, dawn had already started to creep into the dark room through the gap in the curtains.

Sam listened as his father shuffled around, but didn't show that he was awake. When the grunts finally stopped and John seemed to have settled, Sam quietly sniffed the air. The heavy aroma of alcohol didn't surprise him. He sighed and turned to the other side. He doubted he'd fall asleep, but it didn't hurt to try.

The morning was…bearable. Sam had barely slept an hour, dad was hungover and cranky and Dean was visibly annoyed at the tension between his family members. Dean's solution to that was sending Sam to get them some breakfast, which in their family meant 'go take a breather'.

When Sam returned with three coffees and a bag of sandwiches, dad wasn't smelling like someone had spilled a bottle of whiskey over him anymore and Dean was running through their fake IDs.

"So?" He set the food down on the table in front of both his family members and sat down on the bed. "What's the plan?"

"Nuns, Sammy." Dean snickered.

"Dean, you know they are called nuns for a reason, right?" Sam squinted at his joyous brother, fully aware that Dean was trying to distract him from starting another brawl with dad.

"Sam's right, Dean." John scolded the middle Winchester, not even bothering to lift his eyes from the worn-out journal in his hands. "No fooling around."

Dean winked at him secretly and Sam just huffed out a breath. It didn't go unnoticed to him that he still hadn't gotten a clear answer.

"I and Dean will go and check out the church." Their dad seemed to finally notice the unrelenting death stares Sam was giving him. "I want you, Sam, in the library."

It was nothing new. Sam was well aware he was the best when it came to research, but that didn't mean he enjoyed being continuously sidelined.

John must have sensed the dissatisfaction radiating from Sam because he shot him a challenging look. Sam was just too tired of the never-ending arguments so he clenched his teeth and looked sideways at his brother, who was munching on Sam's sandwich.

"When do we leave?" Dean inquired, finishing his food.

"Now." John put down the journal and stretched his arms. He hadn't even touched the coffee.

"Now?" Sam shouted. He had thought they'd give him at least some time to research before heading for the haunted church.

"Yes." John's answer was sharp and short. It was meant to end the conversation, but Sam refused to give his father such pleasure. There went his hesitation to start another fight.

"At least give me some time to check out the history of the place." Sam exclaimed. He had somehow ended up on his feet and was now looking down at John.

Bad idea. John Winchester did not like being looked down upon.

"And sit around doing nothing?" His father was up on his feet, though it didn't matter much. Sam had outgrown the man a couple of months ago.

"You can go interview some witnesses or something." Sam decided not to mention the fact, that they could go do research together.

"Don't teach me how to do my job!" John growled.

The poor choice of words and his father's authoritative way of speaking pushed Sam just that one inch further for him to topple over the edge.

"THIS IS NOT YOUR JOB!" Sam shouted back waving at their motel room with its yellow wallpaper and bed sheets, which had long since lost their original color. He just barely heard Dean's loud gasp over his own erratic breathing.

"What?" John squinted at him and Sam involuntarily stepped back.

"Dad stop it!" Dean was suddenly between them. "Sam's not thinking straight."

"I am thinking fine." Sam shouted at Dean's back. If he thought that fighting with his father hurt, then having Dean take John's side was unbearable.

"Just for once can you not argue and just do what I order?" John shouted back, despite Dean's efforts to keep him quiet.

"Order?" Sam screamed back. "I am not a soldier! I am your so…"

Sam didn't finish. A faint sound interrupted his train of thoughts and he looked around. Dean and Dad seemed to have noticed it as well because they didn't try to keep arguing.

A wail-like sound reached his ears although it could barely be heard.

"Do you hear it?" He whispered, trying to find the source of it.

"What is that?" Dean looked to John for answers, but for once, John seemed just as baffled as they were.

Even if he knew something, he couldn't have answered. The sound steadily grew louder and more intense till they had to cover their ears.

"What the hell!?" Dean yelled, slamming palms over his ears.

It felt like something was splitting Sam' head in two. He let out a shout of pain and crumbled to the floor.

"SAM!" He saw Dean's mouth move, but couldn't hear anything over the deafening sound.

He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears, trying to cover as much of his head as possible when he felt rather than saw his surroundings light up.

He felt someone cover his head with his own body, but couldn't focus on who it was. The ear-splitting noise and the blinding light left him numb and vulnerable.

Sam felt like his head would explode. He felt his own lips moving and screaming for his brother and father, but he was deaf to his own screams. His senses were overwhelmed and he knew he was rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious.

Then it stopped.

Before Sam could slip into obliviousness, it stopped.

The sound suddenly vanished and the light disappeared, leaving three sets of heavy wheezing filling the quiet of the room.


	2. The scorched road ahead of us

**A/N First of all...you, people, are amazing. Thanks so much to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed this story.**

 **I have to be honest though...I don't know if Mary will make an appearance...so much drama/angst/heartbreak there. But then again...this story has a mind of its own. (and who doesn't love a little Winchester angst!) :D**

 **This chapter was done with the help of my wonderful beta - ArtistKurai! Thank you very, very, very much! You're awesome!**

 **Disclaimer - CW owns Supernatural, I'm just borrowing them.**

 **Happy reading!**

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Chapter 2 – The scorched road ahead of us.

Sam blinked. He didn't see anything crouching over himself but he could feel someone's warm breath on his neck.

"…m? Sam?" It took a while for him to realize through the ringing in his ears that someone was calling his name. Strong hands wrapped around his arms and forced him to leave the relative safety he had created by pulling himself into a ball.

As Sam blinked away the tears gathered in his eyes he was met with a disheveled face. Dean's hair stuck out in all possible directions, shoulders pulled tight and eyes impossibly wide and frantic as they roamed Sam's body.

"I'm fine, Dean. Really." Sam noticed a small stream of blood running down his brother's cheek and leaned closer to inspect it.

If there was any doubt about who pretended to be a human shield for him before, then it was all gone now. Not that it was any surprise to begin with.

"You're an idiot." He sighed and scowled at his brother's smug expression. In the same time, he noticed their father get up from the floor. He wobbled a little but gathered himself together almost instantly and started to inspect their surroundings.

Sam finally looked around as well and choked at the sight he saw.

Light blue walls, modern furniture, clean towels on the beds - it was a very nice, clean hotel room. But not their room.

"What the hell!" Dean looked underneath the bed, where he had previously stashed his duffel. Sam wasn't surprised, he didn't find anything. "Where's our stuff?"

"Better question….where are we?" Sam responded and suspiciously examined the windows. The intensity of the sound should have at least made them crack if not shatter, but despite that, they were in perfect condition. What's more, Sam could have sworn, they were cleaner than when he last laid eyes on them.

"Okay. What the hell?!" Dean dropped down on the bed after futilely searching for the rest of their stuff. Sam somehow doubted he would find a single sock in this room. Something weird was going on. Even the salt lines were gone.

"Boys!" John scrambled out of the bathroom, making Dean jump to his feet on alert. "We're going. NOW!"

"What's going on?" Sam asked and didn't comment how his father roughly grabbed his elbow and pulled him along. Like John knew Sam wouldn't listen to him.

"We can't stay here," John answered. Dean was already at the door but apparently decided against stepping outside, because John ran into him. "Dean, the hell you stopped?"

Sam peered around both of them to see what had gotten Dean pale as a sheet and frozen in the middle of the doorway. The empty parking lot looked harmless and he glanced at Dean, who for some reason had a mixture of anger and shock all over his face. If Sam didn't know better, he'd swear he saw his big brother's lip tremble.

"Dean, it's just an empty parking lot…" Sam didn't finish.

That was it. An empty parking lot.

"Where is it?" Dean whispered in horror, still staring at the open space in front of them. "Where's the Impala?"

"Dean!" John barked and pushed all three of them outside. "Now's not the time for it."

The look Dean gave their father was like he had just been asked to cut off his own arm.

"We'll find her," Sam whispered, following his dad as he ran across the parking lot to the nearest inconspicuous car, which turned out to be an old Honda Civic. Sam didn't miss on their way there that even the outside had seemed to change. He was sure that the pavement he saw last night had a few more holes in it.

"Get in!" John ordered them, though Dean was still desperately turning his head around in hopes of finding his dear car. "Now, Dean!"

This time, Sam didn't fight his brother for the shotgun, he folded himself in the backseat and just barely managed to snatch the newspaper from the front before Dean sat his butt down.

It took their father only a couple of minutes to wire the car and soon enough they were leaving their hotel parking lot. Sam couldn't get his eyes off of it. He was sure some things were the same - the same building, layout, even the three lone bushes planted right outside of the reception.

At the same time, it was confusingly different – the name of the hotel was different, the sign, the colors, Sam even thought that the cars parked outside were looking weird. Like someone overdid it and tried to throw some Hollywood movie spaceship designs into the model of the car.

Sam shook his head and looked away, trying to make sense of the things.

"Where are we going?" Sam could hear the displeasure in Dean's voice. He didn't even look away from the window as he was asking that and Sam, in that moment, saw a small pouting child, who had just been deprived of his favorite toy.

"To visit a friend." John kept looking around, trying to keep all of his surroundings in check.

"You mean Bobby?" Sam leaned forward.

"No." John looked at him shortly. "She lives closer."

"She? Do we know her?" Sam tried to think of any female acquaintances that lived anywhere between Lebanon and Sioux Falls.

"No. Stop asking questions, Sam," John ordered. "You'll meet her when we get there."

Sam shared a confused look with Dean, who had started to pay attention as well. If they had trouble they usually went to Pastor Jim, Caleb or Bobby. John Winchester wasn't a man with many friends. For them to seek out the help of a stranger was weird if not outright wrong.

Sam could see that Dean had some questions as well and half-hoped his brother would ask. John always was more tolerant to questions, when they came from Dean.

To his disappointment, Dean kept his mouth shut and Sam leaned back in his seat.

They had a long road ahead of them.

John insisted they keep away from any kind of civilization, even refused to pull over for a coffee or a snack. They hadn't stopped for so long Sam actually feared the old car would run out of gas.

Though, before he managed to make a comment about it John finally took a turn off the highway and onto a much smaller road. Then to another smaller one till Sam actually thought the car would fall to pieces on the rough dirt road before it ran out of gas.

"Don't speak to anyone." John finally spoke after hours of silence filled only by a crackling radio, which only caught stations that gave Dean a migraine. It was better than the pressing silence so the radio had been left on. "I'll do the talking. And for God's sake don't show off or start a fight. You'll lose."

"It sounds like you're taking us to a bar." Dean snickered without much humor.

"I am."

"Wait, what?" Dean's eyes almost popped out.

"This is not a time for a bar, dad." Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"It's a hunters' bar." John shot him a brief, challenging look.

"A bar for hunters?" Dean somehow seemed to have gotten some of his vigor back. "How come you didn't tell us?"

The doubting look John gave him was answer enough. "Just stay out of trouble. We're here."

With that they took a turn and a clearing came into sight.

"What the…" John stepped on the brakes and stopped the car in front of what was left of a building.

It was scorched black. Only a corner of the building was still standing, surrounded by burned wood and rusty cars fire hadn't spared either. Nature had already slowly started to grow around it and pull what was left of the bar inside itself.

"I thought there was supposed to be a bar," Dean spoke as he and Sam stepped out of the car. John was already out, walking around like he couldn't understand which direction he should take.

"There was," John mumbled.

Sam went closer to the leftovers of what once was a wooden building.

"It's clearly been years since this happened," Sam concluded.

There were patches of grass showing through the layer of charcoal and the heavier parts had already partly sunk into the soil.

"It can't be," John shouted from behind him and Sam winced at how shocked his father sounded. He hadn't heard that tone in a good while.

"But it is." Sam sighed and together with Dean they stepped back a little, giving their father some space. John inspected the same spot Sam had but kept shaking his head.

"It was here yesterday!" John shouted. "It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe you just hadn't heard about it," Sam suggested but when John glared at him, he wished he hadn't.

"Don't mock me, Samuel!" John barked at him. "Caleb was here two days ago!"

Sam frowned. John had already stomped off so he didn't bother to start a fight and let his father vent his frustration on an old phone booth, which fire had somehow spared.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean pulled at his elbow.

"It really doesn't make sense." He looked into his brother's green eyes and saw the mirror of his own confusion there. "This fire clearly happened years ago. Even Dad should have heard about it."

Something was not making sense and Sam felt that nagging feeling like he was an inch from figuring out what it actually was.

John apparently had had enough of the sight, because he turned around sharply and barked at them. "Get in the car. We're going to Singer's!"

Sam was already getting tired of John's attitude, but they didn't have a better plan of action so they left the scorched house behind them and headed for Sioux Falls.

Sam knew the situation was bad. They had two guns and each had only one magazine. If someone came looking for a fight they would be in deep trouble. Even if Bobby didn't know what was happening he could help them to gear up. The way they were now they were an easy target for even the simplest salt-and-burn ghost.

Sam tried to ignore the awful feeling in his gut as the miles flew by. He felt like they were on the run from who-knows-what and continuously missing a part of the bigger story. They were just stumbling around in the dark. Winchesters didn't run. The fact that they were crammed together in a tiny Honda was weird on its own, but John's worried look was giving Sam goosebumps.

They were forced to stop once for gas, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before they were back on the road. There wasn't much to talk about and it gave Sam plenty of time to dwell on his inner struggles.

It was like the world was trying to prove him right. That any moment something could happen and throw their life upside down, making them hit the road and not look back.

He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts out and glanced at the seat. There still lay the newspaper Sam had saved from Dean. He picked it up, hoping to at least divert his thoughts from the current problem. Maybe find something useful, if he was really lucky.

It was the local newspaper so he didn't really dwell much on the facts, but something caught his attention.

August 22, 2016.

Sam blinked. Did someone type it wrong?

The date was correct, but the year…it was…

Sam grabbed the pages tighter and skimmed through the text one more time. A local married couple was celebrating 50 years of marriage. Married in 1966.

Sam counted. That was not 50 years, it was 34. Either someone had serious math problems or…

With his heart picking up speed he skimmed through more and more information. Tiny bits he hadn't paid attention to – wrong president, football games he hadn't heard of, weather he hadn't experienced.

"God!" He fell back in his seat with a whimper.

"Sam?" Dean's head immediately turned upon hearing his shocked exhale. Sam didn't know how to explain his latest discovery so he just passed him the paper.

"Look at the date."

"Ha! Some moron typed the wrong year." Dean laughed and showed John the mistake.

"That's not it." Sam leaned forward and pointed at his discovery. "This hasn't happened yet." Then pointed at another fact. "Or this."

"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean still had trouble following.

"I don't think it's the wrong date." Sam saw understanding dawn upon Dean's face and John trying to follow their conversation without making the car end up in a ditch. "We're in the wrong year."

"Future?" Dean looked back with wide eyes. "A freaking future?"

Sam nodded.

"It would explain the motel and the hunters' bar. Those things have changed over time. Something will happen there and we don't know about it yet."

"Then Bobby could…" Dean mumbled looking Sam straight in the eye. Dean must have seen the uncertainty lingering there because he looked away and ordered. "Drive faster, Dad."

"Are you sure, Sam?" John pressed his foot down on the gas pedal and looked sideways at him.

"Yeah." Sam exhaled and clenched his fist. He hoped to everything that he ever held dear that Bobby was alright. Sam tried not to think about how little hope sometimes meant in their way of living.

After hours filled with tension, fear, and almost every negative emotion on the planet, they turned onto the familiar road. Sam was pretty sure that on their way there they'd broken at least a dozen traffic regulations, but that didn't matter as they finally laid eyes on the place.

For the second time that day Sam was greeted by scorched, black leftovers of a house. He didn't know the bar, couldn't associate it with a person he knew, but this was different.

Singer's salvage yard was like second home to him. He remembered the smell of old books and whiskey. He remembered rough hands picking him up as a little boy. He remembered the gruff voice of the owner and the loving smile. He remembered the lazy afternoons where he wasn't asked to run 4 miles but instead could play hide-and-seek with Dean. He remembered the man with a baseball cap who would argue with John even about the most irrelevant things.

"No." Dean gasped from the front seat and was out of the car before John had even stopped the engine.

Sam followed his brother but gave him some space. His heart broke at the sight of Dean frantically looking around the place, of taking a half a step in almost every direction, but not moving in one. Dean simply didn't know where to start.

"He's not dead." Dean turned around to face him. Sam didn't argue about the slim possibility of it and flinched as Dean roared. "BOBBY!"

He stepped closer to the trembling older brother. Sam didn't touch him, he was just being there for him, in his personal space. Just in case Dean needed him.

"It's been years since this happened," Sam spoke, eying the ruin.

"It really is the future." John sighed behind them and though he was doing an excellent job at hiding it, Sam could see pain and sorrow reflect in his eyes.

"Now where to?" Sam asked, not taking eyes away from his heartbroken older brother. If this had happened to Bobby, then who knew what they'd find if they looked for Pastor Jim or Caleb.

"How about a police station?" A strong woman's voice asked from behind.


	3. Nameless boys

**A/N Hi, there! I'm back. Thank you all for the reviews and support you've shown for this work. You have no idea how much it has helped me. Apparently studying abroad is tougher than I thought and seeing your responses has helped me to crawl out of the black hole I had fallen into.**

 **Okay, enough about me...**

 **Since I think it will be easier on everyone's nervous system, I decided to** ** _try_** **and publish a new chapter around every Saturday. Some people got worried about this being slash - worry not, this is just a good old story about the coolest brothers in the world.**

 **As always - a big thank you to ArtistKurai who keeps reading this monster and proving how utterly helpless I am with English grammar. :)**

 **Disclaimer: SPN still belongs to CW.**

 **Happy Reading, guys!**

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Chapter 3 – Nameless boys

Sam whipped around at the sound of the woman's voice and was immediately shoved back by Dean. His brother squared his shoulders in front of him, trying to block as much of Sam as possible, leaving Sam to huff in annoyance.

"Who are you?" Their father shouted, eying the newcomer over the barrel of the gun, similarly to what Dean was doing.

"I am Sheriff Jody Mills!" The middle-aged woman answered. "Lower your guns."

Sam looked the woman up and down but even he couldn't figure whether she was lying or not. As far as he knew she could be a normal local or a very well disguised monster. Either way, they couldn't risk attacking a police officer. They weren't the enemy. At least not directly.

Sam exchanged a worried look with Dean, who seemed just as uncertain. They glanced sideways at their dad but it seemed he had come to the same conclusion as Sam. Reluctantly both his brother and father holstered their weapons, their eyes never leaving the woman.

"Can I ask what this is about?" John stepped closer to them. Sam didn't miss how he was once again pushed backward, his dad and brother creating a wall between him and the woman. Sometimes Sam wondered if they understood that he was seventeen not seven.

"We received a call of a madman gunning through the streets in the direction of Singer's place." Jody finally backed off and also lowered her gun. "I will have to ask you to come with me now."

"Sorry, Sheriff, but that won't be possible," John responded, and Sam could already see it taking a turn for the worse.

"And why is that?" The woman squinted at him and Sam noticed how close her hand still lingered at the gun.

At this point the only things to illuminate the dark and depressing surroundings were the lights of their stolen car and the moon above their heads. Sam could hear crickets in the woods during the moment it took John answer the woman.

"We have family business to take care of." John pointedly looked at the woman's hip.

She looked down and instead of grasping the weapon once again, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I know it must be important, but so is my job. I'm afraid I have to insist." Sheriff's voice gained strength and abruptness and Sam got the feeling that the woman could match his father in stubbornness.

He was also getting annoyed by the back-and-forth conversation and despite clearly making his brother uncomfortable, stepped in front of him and their dad and looked the woman in the eye.

"Listen, we don't mean trouble. We were just looking for the owner of the house."

It clearly got the Sheriff's attention because her stern façade faltered and confusion crept in.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, do you know where he is?" Sam asked, ignoring John's disapproving growl and the warning tug at his sleeve.

"I'm sorry, kid." The woman answered and the tone in her voice created a pit in Sam's gut. Only people bearing bad news had a tone like that - grave and gentle at the same time. "Bobby died four years ago."

Sam blinked.

He must have heard wrong. He must have.

Bobby couldn't be…

Over the sound of his pounding heart, he heard Dean's sharp intake of a breath and John's low cursing. Sam glanced back to see his brother's pale face and wide, scared eyes.

"What?" Dean choked out. He glanced at the destruction behind and around them and then back at the Sheriff. "Did he…did Bobby...?"

Sam felt a painful squeeze in the heart at his brother's broken tone. He felt like he was balancing on the edge of the cliff, which would lead to infinite sorrow.

"He wasn't at home when the fire happened," the woman answered in a soft tone. "He died later. A gun shot."

"Who did it?" Dean sharply pulled Sam back and resumed his previous position in front of him. "Who killed him?" he asked venomously and Sam noticed his arms trembling. He wanted to reach out and comfort his big brother but doubted it would be a welcomed gesture.

"If you're searching for revenge, boy, don't bother. Bobby was avenged." Sam kept looking back and forth between the woman and the house, trying to wrap his head around said things. "It's been years already."

Years. Sam tried to force himself to concentrate. It had been years since Bobby died. Whatever future they had ended up in, Bobby had died. For some reason, Sam had always thought that Bobby would forever live as an old grunt.

"How did you know Bobby anyway?" the lady Sheriff asked cautiously.

For reasons unknown to himself, Sam felt like a trapped animal in that moment. Like Sheriff Jody Mills was one step ahead of them and wasn't telling them something.

"We shared the same line of business." John gave the typical vague answer, but Sam didn't miss the tone of suspicion in his voice. "Why?"

The woman seemed to gauge her actions but finally, with a sigh she faced them.

"You guys are hunters."

It was a conclusion and the way she said the word told Sam that she wasn't talking about hunting a deer or a boar. She was definitely meaning their kind of prey. The kind that went bumping in the night and for which special kind of hunters were needed with just the right amount of sorrow, loss, crazy and brave mixed into their blood.

"Who are you?" John immediately had his gun out and pointed at the Sheriff's chest. The woman, though, didn't pull out hers.

"I was a friend of Bobby." She raised her arms. "I have seen the crap he dealt with. I've seen my own share of monsters and hunters to recognize one when I see one."

"I've never heard of a cop hunter," John accused.

"Not my day-job. If I hear something in my neighborhood, I deal with it," Jody explained, and even though John still had his gun aimed at her, she lowered her arms and leveled him with an annoyed look. "Look, you can be all mysterious on me or allow me to help you, your choice."

"Help." Sam quickly answered before his father could refuse her. "We could use some help."

It definitely wasn't what his brother or father had in mind but Sam felt a weird pull toward the woman. He couldn't not believe her. Their family didn't trust many people but Sam was willing to risk believing this one woman.

Jody smiled at him kindly.

"You boys remind me of someone I know." She eyed them for a while and shook her head in denial before Sam managed to get uncomfortable under her stare. "Anyway, we've had some trouble brewing in the neighborhood, so if you want to find a familiar face, I might know the place."

"What trouble?" John asked, finally stowing his gun.

"A demon." Jody sighed. "He helped to create a huge mess and I know a couple of hunters been hunting him down ever since. Last time I heard, they captured the bastard."

"What demon? What mess?" Dean interrupted her. Sam could hear how annoyed and confused Dean was and he had a feeling Dean was trying to place the blame on Sheriff for what had happened to Bobby.

"It's a long story." Jody eluded questions and nodded at their getaway car. "That one's probably stolen so why don't you take a ride with me and I'll tell you on the way?"

"How do we know we can trust you?" John growled at her. Sam glared at him. His father could at least trust him.

"Look, mister, I am a Sheriff first and a hunter second. You can decide whether you trust me or not after I give the boys there," she pointed to him and Dean, "a proper bed. It looks like they could use some rest."

"Thank you, but we'll be fine." John tried to back away. "I have friends we can ask for help."

"What's your name?" the Sheriff asked, refusing to give in.

"John."

"Listen here, John." The nice tone was gone and was replaced by iron. "If you were alone, I'd send you on your merry way, but those boys look exhausted and are probably not older than twenty."

"Twenty-one." Dean interrupted.

"Whatever you say, boy!" she answered shortly and turned her attention back to John. "I could arrest you, but I'm showing you some compassion. The least you could do is get a room for the night. I'll show you where my contacts are meeting up tomorrow."

"We don't play well with others." The way John said it made it sound like a threat.

"Don't all hunters?" She snickered. "So? You coming?"

Sam saw John hesitating so he took the step forward. Dad would give him hell for this, but he felt that no one but him was willing to take the initiative.

"Thank you."

"Sammy, what are you doing?" Dean hissed from behind him, loud enough for him to hear him, but not enough for Jody to catch what they were saying.

"She can help," he whispered back, not taking his eyes off the woman. "Otherwise we are just wandering around, hoping to run into someone we may know."

Dean was about to say something back, but a ring cut through the night and the Sheriff pulled out a black square object. Sam guessed that's how phones looked in the year 2016.

"Sheriff Mills," she answered and apparently knew the caller because she huffed in annoyance. "Garth, no one's going to kill you," someone named Garth spoke on the other line as the Sheriff listened. "Listen, Sam and Dean will be there in a couple of hours….No, I can't come, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment…No…Just don't let the demon get away, right?...Okay…Bye, Garth!"

Sam lost his train of thought upon hearing the conversation. He sharply turned around to face his brother, whose face was an exact mirror of shock as his. Sam and Dean. She couldn't have meant them, right? They both looked over to John, who seemed to have a gotten a bit wide-eyed as well.

"Sam and Dean," John spoke the moment Jody put down her device. "You mean Winchester?"

The response Jody gave them was not what Sam thought it would be. He expected an indifferent shrug, but the response they received took him by surprise. Sheriff stiffened and for a moment her hand twitched in the direction of her gun.

"Yeah, you know those boys?" She squinted at them coldly. Protectively.

"You could say we have a history together." John gave them pointed looks. A sign to keep shut and let him do the talking.

"What kind of history?" Jody eyed them suspiciously. It was clear that future Sam and Dean Winchester meant a lot to her.

"Does it matter?" John answered, clearly not comfortable with being asked so many questions.

"Yeah it matters." Jody barked at him and Sam almost flinched at the sudden change of tone. "Those boys have enough trouble as it is."

"No, we don't want to hurt them!" Sam interrupted, seeing where it was going. "They…we're…we're old friends…they could help us."

Though Sam saw he was doing a better job at convincing her than his father, Jody still didn't let her shoulders relax.

"How do I know you're not the enemy? Winchesters don't keep many friends."

"We're not." Sam looked her in the eye, hoping to convince her.

"Prove it."

"How do you want us to prove it, lady?" Dean grumbled and Sam shot him an annoyed look. "Bobby was our friend. We know he was close to the Winchesters as well. And if you knew Bobby, you'd know he chose his friends carefully."

It felt weird hearing Dean speak of them like strangers. The sorrow in Dean's eyes had blended together with annoyance and tiredness. Dean clearly had had enough for one day. Any more and Sam didn't doubt Dean would start shooting things.

"Fine." Jody relented after a careful thought. "Sam and Dean will get into town in a few hours. I'll show you the place."

"Thanks!"

"But I swear to God, you try harming either of them I'll hunt you down myself," Jody added, shooting John a dark look.

Sam shivered at the threat but followed the woman when she led them to her car, parked just behind a turn.

"Get in." The Sheriff nodded and opened the driver's door. "I'll take you to a hotel and call someone to pick up the one you stole."

Sam even felt bad at the accusing glare the Sheriff gave them.

"When can we meet the Winchesters?" John asked, closing the passenger door behind him.

"They are meeting at an abandoned house tomorrow." Jody steered them on the main road and passed him a piece of paper. "This is the address."

"Thank you." John tucked it in his jacket pocket.

"Yeah, well, the threat still stands." Jody didn't turn her attention away from the road, but her tone was like a steel blade. "You try hurting them and I'll make sure you regret it."

"You seem to care about them a lot," Sam stated, impatient to find out something more about their possible future counterparts. Even Dean beside him perked up, waiting for an answer.

"They are like sons to me." Sam couldn't help the small smile when he noticed how loving Jody's expression in the rearview mirror was. "Saved my ass more than once. And more importantly, they are the reason I have two wonderful daughters now."

Sam glanced a Dean, who had gotten pale as a sheet, and immediately knew he'd gotten the wrong idea. Stupid older brother.

"Dude, that's disgusting." Sam jabbed him in the ribs with a growl.

"Yeah? How so?" Sam asked and ignored how Dean paid him back with a kick to the calf.

"Both lost their families and got saved by the boys." Jody smiled at him and Sam genuinely smiled back. "When they had nowhere else to go, I offered to take them in."

Sam would have loved to ask more but John had questions of his own and interrupted their little conversation.

"So what's been going on here? You mentioned a demon."

Jody's face turned serious and it was obvious she would have liked it more to continue her conversation with Sam.

"I don't know much." She sighed and her expression turned thoughtful. "Apparently a spell went bad and the demon knows how to reverse it."

"What demon?" Sam saw anger flash in his father's face and nudged Dean again. Before Dean could start a brawl with him, he pointed towards John. They both recognized what was happening.

"Don't know," Jody answered warily.

"Dad, how about we ask the Winchesters ourselves?" Dean suggested in a stern voice and Sam hoped that it would be one of those times when John actually listened.

When John nodded, Sam huffed out a relieved breath and noticed them taking a turn into a parking lot.

The motel was similar to a thousand different motels they had stayed at but Sam couldn't care less. At the thought of having a bed and a pillow, he finally acknowledged how tired he actually was.

"Thank you, Sheriff Mills!" Sam said as they pulled over and got out.

"Just Jody will be enough." She smiled at him and pointed to the reception. "And don't mention it, kid. Tell the clerk I sent you. You should get the room cheaper."

"Thank you very much. For everything." This time, it was Dean who said it. He took Sam by the elbow and led him aside. John had already bid his farewells and gone to get them a room so they just stood at the side of the almost empty parking lot, watching the truck pull away.

As Sam breathed in the cool night air and let his thoughts wander he had a sudden realization. They had somehow ended up sixteen years in the future.

Sixteen years later, where Sam and Dean Winchester were hunting down a demon.

Sam was glad that it was too dark for Dean to see the disappointment on his face and that he stood far enough to not notice the flinch he got at the thought.

For Sam Winchester hadn't gotten out of the life of hunting.

* * *

Only when Jody parked in her driveway did she remember a weird fact. She hadn't asked for the boys' names. She had been so concerned about their suspicious-looking father she actually forgot to do it. That and the fact that the boys so strongly reminded her of Sam and Dean.

"I'll probably see them tomorrow anyway." She shrugged and opened the door to the house. "Girls, I'm home."


	4. Time-traveling bullets

**A/N Hi, people! It's Saturday so as promised - here is the new chapter. Thanks for all the lovely reviews. Makes waiting for the next Supernatural episode much easier. :D**

 **I felt a huge responsibility writing this chapter, trying to make it awesome, so I hope you like!**

 **Again...big, big thank you to my beta-reader ArtistKurai.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 4 – Time-traveling bullets

Sam was literally trembling in excitement, and he knew so was Dean, no matter how his brother tried to hide it. Only John seemed more grumpy and sullen than usual. He had spent the whole morning listing reasons why they shouldn't go. Most of them had to do with his reluctance to socialize with other hunters or his pride being damaged by asking for help, but even he knew – they needed aid and no one could help them get out of the mess more than they themselves…well, their future selves.

"You follow my lead, got it?" John grumbled, eying the abandoned house in front of them. It was far enough from the town and any neighboring houses and generally secluded from prying eyes. The uncut grass was reaching the lower windows, and the forest around the house had slowly started to swallow the building. In earlier days, the house definitely could have been viewed as beautiful, but what Sam laid his eyes upon now was a mere shadow of it. The porch railing had pieces missing from it and there were two ropes hanging from the low roof, where once probably a hammock had been hanging.

In front of the house, four cars were parked and Sam recognized one of them as Sheriff Jody Mills's truck. The other cars were typical hunter cars – simple and inconspicuous. Their own new, stolen car was parked two miles back and they had walked the rest of the way.

"Let's see what you boys been up to." John sighed, clearly unhappy with the plan, and started to approach the house.

They didn't try to be stealthy. If they did, hunters inside could get the wrong idea about their intentions and bullets would start flying even before they stepped foot on the declining, fragile-looking porch.

And they were right. No sooner had they passed the car parked furthest from the house than the muzzle of a gun appeared between the wooden boards of the nailed-down window.

"Who's coming?" a rough male voice shouted out, and all three of them stopped.

Before John could figure out an answer, the gun disappeared and a shuffling sound reached their ears. Moments later the front door opened with a loud creak and Jody Mills's head appeared.

"I was waiting for you," she announced and opened the doors wider to welcome them in.

John shot both him and Dean a warning look and they nodded. Dean pulled the safety off his gun and Sam unclipped the strap holding his newly stolen knife in place.

"Sheriff Mills." John seemingly casually shook her hand and stepped inside the house.

Sam was the last to step inside and immediately assessed the situation. Seven people had gathered. Three women and four men in total and they were, without a doubt, all hunters. Aside from Jody, there was another blond woman in police uniform, and a woman who looked more like a housewife than a hunter was grasping a scrawny guy's hand. Definitely a couple, Sam thought. The rest of the men could only be categorized as typical hunters. Tall, well built with the same grim expression on their faces. And they were all staring at them.

"Who are you?" a man in a dark brown leather jacket asked sharply.

"They are looking for the Winchesters," Jody explained.

"My name is John," their dad added and then nodded at him and Dean. "These are my sons Alex and Cody."

The man in the leather jacket squinted at them but didn't say a word, so Jody introduced them instead.

"This is Brian," she rolled her eyes and then pointed at two bulky guys staying at another door. "Those two are Cesar and Jesse."

They both nodded in acknowledgment and Jody continued.

"That twig there is Garth and his wife Bess." She ignored the offended grumble from the man and pointed to the blonde police officer, "this is Donna, Sheriff from Stillwater."

"Hi, nice to meet you!" The blonde Sheriff smiled at them brightly and Sam awkwardly nodded back.

It was definitely a weird bunch of people, and Sam felt both disappointment and relief at discovering that their future counterparts were not yet there. Though he was impatient, he still didn't feel prepared to meet them.

"So…you know Sam and Dean, huh?" Brian inquired, and Sam understood that they were being interrogated. The guy's voice was low and he didn't even bother hiding his snarky tone.

"Yes, they are family friends," John answered curtly, his eyes flashing in a challenge.

"Are you sure about them?" Brian faced Jody, completely ignoring the eldest Winchester.

"Yes," Jody answered the dark haired man though Sam noticed the short pause. Even she had her doubts about them. "They are friends of Bobby."

"They are your responsibility," he growled and Sam saw the man's brown eyes study them for a while before he turned away.

It was clear to Sam that these people didn't know each other very well. They seemed to stick to the groups of two and keep to themselves. Except the blond Sheriff. She was the first to approach them.

"I hear from Jody that you need help." She smiled cheerfully. Maybe even a bit too cheerfully. "What got you in trouble?"

"I don't think you can help us, no offense," John grumbled and maneuvered himself around the Sheriff and towards the men at the door.

"So...Cody, right?" The woman didn't lose her spirit and Sam exchanged worried looks with Dean. It would be hard to shake her.

"Yeah." He forced a smile. She wasn't a bad person, just…maybe not what he needed at the moment.

"Don't tell me you're already slicing off monsters' heads at such a young age," she shook her head disapprovingly.

"Don't worry, Sheriff," Dean grabbed Sam around the shoulders. "Me and my father take good care of little Cody."

Dean made an extra effort to drag out the fake name and say it overly sweetly. Sam wanted to snarl at him but made do with a well-aimed stomp of his foot and grinned when he heard Dean swallow a curse. The nails that dug into his arm were worth it.

"Excuse us," Dean gave her one of his charming smiles and evaded her, "our father needs us."

They left the woman looking confused and taken back and Sam wasn't really sure if that was all because of Dean's flirting.

John, in the meantime, had apparently gotten nowhere because he approached them with a frown and gritted teeth.

"Looks like we'll have to wait for your future selves to show up," John grumbled quietly under his breath, continuing to throw suspicious glances at everybody else.

"Looks like it." Dean sighed and eyed the room. Sam had no idea what he was looking for, but Dean seemed to have found it anyway. He walked to the corner of the room and dropped down on the floor like he was in their motel, not in a room full of strangers. "Might as well get comfortable," he shrugged and patted the dusty floor boards next to him.

Sam eyed the place for mold or any bugs and sat down next to him. He steeled himself for a long wait.

It didn't surprise him that no more than five minutes had passed before Dean started fidgeting. His brother was in the process of trying to pull out a rusty nail from the floor boards when an unmistakable sound reached their ears. The sound of an engine. A specific engine.

The way Dean's head snapped up and his gleeful eyes met his almost made Sam laugh. Everybody else in the room raised their heads and Brian looked through the gap in the window.

"They're here," he announced and Sam unconsciously grabbed the edge of Dean's jacket. His brother gave him a comforting look, but Sam could see he was just as nervous.

They both got up but didn't leave their corner. John stepped in front of them and took a wide stance, crossing his arms over his chest. Sam wasn't stupid, he knew it would only take a fraction of a second for John Winchester to have his gun out and aimed.

This was it. They were about to see them.

And for some reason, Sam started to feel terrified.

The engine outside stopped and they could hear doors getting shut. He could hear deep voices but couldn't understand a word they were saying. They were still a bit too far. Then he heard steady steps on the old, creaking porch and by the time the door started to move Sam had forgotten how to breathe.

"We miss anything?" The door was in the way and Sam couldn't see the speaker, but he could hear how confident and, at the same time, cheeky the voice sounded.

Dean.

Sam was sure of it. That had to his brother's voice. It was deeper and rougher around the edges but unmistakably Dean's.

"Good to see you, boys!" Jody stepped forward and enveloped a large man in a hug. Sam still couldn't see the face, but he saw short, dirty blond, spiky hair and looked at his brother. Dean was openly staring at the newcomer with his mouth slightly open.

"Good to see you too, Jody!" another voice spoke, and Sam's breath got stuck in his throat. That had to be him. That was him. Him sixteen years later. Another man finally stepped inside and Sam couldn't believe what he saw.

"Jeez, you're huge, Sammy!" Dean next to him gasped, but Sam was too overwhelmed to make a suitable retort. He needed a moment. It felt like he was drowning in the information. There was too much to take it in.

Maybe that was the reason he couldn't react as fast as he should.

Sam didn't even notice them scanning the room, but they did notice them. One moment, their future counterparts were greeting the scrawny hunter, the next he was looking at two pale faces.

He saw their eyes widen, their lips part in shock and a mere moment later he was staring at two barrels, pointed right at them. If he didn't fear for his life he would admire how fluent and synchronized the movement was.

"WHO ARE YOU?" future Dean bellowed, and Sam unconsciously shrunk back. At the same time, another half a dozen guns were pointed at them.

It was all spinning out of control and Sam knew - if something was not done soon, people would end up with new holes in their bodies.

"WHO ARE YOU?" future Dean demanded in raised voice again.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" Sam forced his way through the wall dad and Dean had created in front of him. Again.

Bad idea.

Apparently, Brian was a trigger-happy bastard, and no sooner he had stepped out of the cover Dean and dad had provided, he heard the characteristic sound of a gun being fired.

The next thing he understood was the pain. Lots and lots of pain.

"SAMMY!" Dean behind him shouted. He didn't even hit the floor before an arm wrapped around his shoulders and all surroundings were suddenly blocked by Dean.

He was on the floor, kneeling and holding him with one hand and pointing the gun at Brian with the other.

"Move and you die!" Dean growled in a deadly tone. He even managed to cover most of Sam's body with his own, while doing that.

Grasping his bleeding shoulder and gasping in pain, he heard another sound over the otherwise deadly silence in the room.

Someone took a sharp intake of breath which was followed by a surprised and worried voice.

"Sam?"

Sam glanced over his brother's shoulder to find that future Dean was leaning back to see a red spot forming on future Sam's right shoulder.

"What the Hell?" he exclaimed and looked back at them. "What's happening here?" future Dean shouted.

"We are you," Sam got out through gritted teeth and when everyone in the room adopted the same confused face, he sighed. "Something happened…in the year 2000…we came here."

"Time travel," future Sam addressed his brother.

"I freaking hate time travel," future Dean grumbled and motioned for everyone to lower their guns, though he didn't lower his. They reluctantly did what he asked.

"Thanks!" Sam sighed and fell back with a moan. "Dean."

His brother was immediately all over him, stripping him from his jacket and t-shirt till he was satisfied with the access he had to the wound.

"I need the first aid kit," he ordered to no one particular, but Sam heard doors shut and open after a short while. Suddenly Jody was at his other side, trying to pry open the red bag.

John still stood above them, pointing his gun at future Dean, who stared back at him.

"Sammy," future Dean leaned back towards Sam. "You need to take care of that."

"I'll be fine." Sam gritted out and looked straight into the eyes of his past self. "Fix him and it should fix me as well."

Future Dean didn't look convinced, but he turned his attention back to John, though he stepped closer to his brother, trying to block him. If Sam didn't have a hole in his shoulder he would have laughed at how little his brother seemed to have changed.

Jody touched the tender spot and Sam involuntary let out a shout. Dean immediately growled at the woman and Sam felt his grip tighten around his back.

"Maybe we should take him to the hospital," Sam heard the blond Sheriff – Donna - speak. "He doesn't look so good."

Sam wondered how she knew that, since he had his face pressed into his brother's shoulder, trying to block out the pain of Jody feeling out his arm. She tried to be gentle, her fingers ghosting above the wound, but the bleeding had to be stopped and Sam didn't even want to think about how much it would hurt.

"Okay, Jody," he heard the low voice, which despite being sixteen years older, still made him feel safe. Dean, though, still growled at his counterpart. "Calm down, cowboy. Sammy's still Sammy. You're me, and I know I would rather stitch him up myself than make someone else do it." It was barely louder than a whisper and clearly spoken only for both Deans to hear. And Sam, because now he was sandwiched between them.

Again. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would laugh at the whole situation. One Dean was annoying enough, and somehow Sam really doubted Dean's mothering habits had changed over the years.

"Do you have something for the pain?" Sam felt Dean's chest tremble with speech. He was too tired to raise his head. The pain was continuously sucking the energy out of him and he felt that the only thing he could do was stay awake.

"Only partially," the Dean with the lower voice answered, and before Sam could figure out what it meant, there was a stinging pain on the wound. Sam groaned in Dean's shoulder, and he might have bitten his brother's jacket.

"You're good. You're good Sammy," Dean was speaking above him and though Sam was thankful for the calming words, he was more glad that the older Dean had stopped whatever he had been doing. "Got your first bullet wound," Dean laughed in faked humor.

"Shut up," Sam growled at him.

He would have said another smart remark, but in that moment he felt something sharp pierce his skin and whimpered. Dean's grip immediately tightened. His breaths were ragged and forced as he tried not to focus on the feeling of a needle pressing into his flesh or the drag of the thread through his sensitive skin. He didn't cry but he hoped that Dean's shoulder muffled his whimpers and strangled groans, which escaped his lips on a particularly painful stitch.

Sam had done stitches and had them done to him before, but he still refused to look at his wound. By the time future Dean had finished stitching up both entry and exit wounds, his skin felt clammy, and he felt lightheaded. His thoughts were foggy and they didn't quite form right in his mind. All he understood was that he was in pain and he wanted to sleep. The hand stroking his head didn't help him to stay awake either.

"Perhaps we should let him rest," a voice spoke from somewhere outside of his safe cocoon.

"No," Sam forced his lips to part and the tongue to form words. "Ne…need answers."

"Not the best time, Sammy!" Dean grumbled, forcing both of them up. Sam's world tilted for a moment but he got his bearings and finally took a closer look at his counterpart.

He was huge. The future him was well-built and Sam secretly celebrated the fact that he had turned out quite handsome. However, the moment his future counterpart locked eyes with him the whole admiration fell apart. Sam knew himself, he knew the face which would look back at him in the mirror if he was scared, sad or outright broken.

However, Sam Winchester's eyes shocked him. What horror, sadness, and heartbreak had he lived through to gain that look in his eyes? So dark and secluded, filled with secrets and pain he must have had to bear.

"You good, kiddo?" Jody asked the older Sam and he showed her his shoulder.

"Looks like time healed me." The place which just minutes ago had oozed blood was now scabbed over and only a scar remained. Future Sam gave his brother a questioning look. "I'd say this proves their story."

Future Dean stared at the three of them carefully. Sam knew he was identifying threats and calculating his next course of actions. He also knew that if he started to question them his muddled mind wouldn't keep up. He already felt dazed.

"I'm not trusting them without the tests," he finally grumbled and Sam sighed.

Great. More pain.


	5. Unworthy things and too many Winchesters

**/N Hello, everybody! I am so sorry, I've been gone for a while but I think university was trying to kill me. I hope I've done right by all of you. I read all your comments and really tried to improve. I was planning to post it on Saturday, but since I am in UK and I ruined both my nervous system and sleep schedule by staying up and supporting my American friend last night, I thought this is gonna be a part of my rehab.**

 **By the way, more than 100 followers! Thank you.**

 **Disclaimer - Still don't own Supernatural**

 **As always, a big thank you to ArtistKurai for filtering out the mistakes and helping me deliver this work to you.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Unworthy things and too many Winchesters

Dean had found his match. If there was a person out there, who could stand his ground against Dean in an over-protective brother mode it was Dean himself. Even their dad let Dean take the lead when it came to caring for Sam. You just did not mess with him. Not when it was Sam on the line.

Especially not now, when the person in question was standing in the middle of the room, weary from pain and blood loss, and witnessing the most vocal and threat-diverse shouting match in his entire life. It didn't matter that they were sixteen years apart in age. If future Dean raised his voice so did Dean; if one started to swear so did the other. Sam just hoped that it wouldn't reach the point where fists were flying. No matter how equal both Deans were in their sarcastic, big brother behavior, it was clear who would have the advantage in a fist-fight.

"I am not gonna trust any of you not knowing you're human," future Dean growled at his younger counterpart.

"Your freaking buddy shot Sam!" Dean stepped closer, trying to make up for the difference in the height and muscle build. Sam could only shake his head in disappointment. "You are not gonna slice him up more!"

Sam could have argued that he could take care of himself, that he didn't need his older brother to stand up for him, but he was too exhausted to start a fight with one Dean, not to mention two of them.

"Calm down, Dean!" John suddenly shouted over both of them, silencing the whole room in a fraction of a second.

"Don't…" future Dean shot him a warning look but was stopped mid-sentence by future Sam grabbing him by the elbow. Sam saw a thousand words being exchanged in a single look, barely there nods, having their own meaning.

"Just do the tests," future Sam sighed and pulled out a knife, hidden under his jacket. He passed it forward, handle first.

"I said no one's cutting my little brother," Dean turned to him and defiantly stared him in the eyes, the knife awkwardly still held between the two of them. Sam saw a flash of annoyance in his own counterpart's features and sighed. Dean was complicating things in a record time.

"If you'd stop your family drama for a minute," Brian interrupted them from the corner. Sam turned to face him and saw no remorse on his face whatsoever. He also recognized the look on his brother's face, which was usually directed at bullies or their monster of the week. It meant that Dean was barely restraining himself from smashing the guy's head through the wall. "I could tell you that the bullet's silver. If the kid was a shifter, he'd be dead by now."

A confused silence enveloped the room till future Sam grumbled, "Really, Brian? You allow for the whole hell to break loose and then announce it?"

Sam couldn't agree with his counterpart more.

The guy shrugged, "Not like anybody'd listen."

"Whatever," Dean leveled the man with a distrusting look and took the knife from future Sam's hand.

He lightly slid it across his forearm, drawing a thin line of blood and passed it on to their father who did the same. At the same time, they were carefully watched by the two older brothers.

Sam was frowning at Dean's makeshift bandage, as he was trying to wrap it around his arm one-handed when suddenly he felt himself being drenched in water and instinctively he shut his eyes.

"Thanks for the warning, jerk," Sam heard Dean grumbling and opened his eyes to find him glaring at future Dean. His tongue darted across his lips and he made a face. "Yeck. What the hell is this stuff?"

"Holy water, salt, and borax," older Sam explained it in a matter-of-fact tone. Like there wasn't anything wrong or unnatural with drowning them in a chemical cocktail.

"Why?" Sam asked, trying to dry his face with his damp clothes. "I get the salt and holy water, but why did you mix it with borax?"

"In case you're leviathans," older Dean answered curtly.

"In case we're what?" Dean asked, pulling his plaid shirt off. Sam huffed in jealousy. He was only in his t-shirt and he had no urge to walk around half-naked.

"Leviathans," older Sam patiently explained. "They are similar to shapeshifters. It's a long story."

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, how about you start explainin'!" John grumbled at the two Winchesters, who both shared a confused and reluctant look. Sam didn't miss the distrust in it but couldn't really find it in himself to blame the guys. Hell, he spent half his life doubting his father's decisions.

"How about you start with how you ended up here?" Older Sam swiftly avoided answering.

Sam was sure his dad wouldn't like being ignored, so before either Dean or Dad managed to part their lips, he took on the responsibility of retelling their adventures. He wasn't comfortable with seven other people listening to their life story, and judging by Dean's and Dad's sour expressions, they weren't either.

The whole room tuned in on their story from how they woke up in a parking lot to how Jody disrupted their journey and when Sam had finished his shortened version nobody spoke for a while. It took a while to digest. Their future counterparts seemed utterly confused and Sam got a feeling they couldn't provide them with much of an answer.

"What happened with Ellen and Bobby?" John finally interrupted silence with his gruff voice and, crossing his arms over his chest, stared at the two of them. Sam noticed once again a look being exchanged and finally the older Dean answered. Though it was apparent how unwilling he was.

"Ellen died in 2009 and Bobby in 2011," he answered curtly, stating the facts in cold, almost sharp voice. Sam found out he could read the older version of his brother almost as good as he could the 21-year-old version.

"How?" John kept pestering and Sam just barely stopped himself from making a nasty comment. It was clear that neither of their future counterparts was comfortable talking about it.

"It doesn't matter," the older Dean evaded and turned away.

Sam saw the moment his father's eyes flashed in anger and annoyance, similarly to how they did when Sam didn't do something he was told. If he hadn't seen it, he would never believe Dean could be a reason for that kind of reaction.

"I thought I raised you better than that," John's voice dropped a tone. "Answer to your father."

The reaction it pulled out from the older version of Dean surprised Sam. And by the way Dean took a short step backward, it also surprised Dean.

Future Dean sharply turned around and stomped till he was face to face with John. Sam noticed other Sam trying to grab for his brother, but it was too late. Dean leaned forward, invading John's personal space and hissed.

"My father died ten years ago after saying I might have to kill my own brother." Sam felt all warmth of his body seeping out and stared at the two men in shock. "Excuse me if I don't follow your orders anymore."

It ended just as suddenly as it had begun, and Dean sharply turned around and stomped out of the house, the door slamming behind him with a dejected thud.

Future Sam let out a long sigh.

"Keep an eye on them," he said to no one particular and followed his brother outside.

The moment the door shut once again and Sam's footsteps could be no longer heard on the floorboards outside, the room fell into a deadly silence. Sam could even hear someone swallow, could hear the floorboards squeaking as Dean took a trembling step away from his father.

"Dad?" Dean tried to pretend his voice wasn't trembling. "What does it mean?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" John yelled back sharper than it was necessary. His sharp tone pulled Sam out of his daze. He felt himself lose balance as his brain finally processed what he had just heard and he fell back against the dirty wall to keep himself upright.

Dean was on him in a second. Familiar hands on his shoulders, strong but gentle, trying to keep him grounded.

"Why?" Sam looked up at him and hated how raw and vulnerable his voice sounded. It seemed like his brain had short-circuited; he couldn't make his thoughts form sentences. "What did I do…will do…for you to have to kill me?"

"No, no, no, Sammy!" Dean looked into his eyes and Sam couldn't find the strength to turn away. "Nobody killed you. See? You'll grow up to be a giant. Dad made a mistake."

He noticed John over Dean's shoulder. He was looking at them curiously and it made Sam involuntarily shrink back. His wound brushed against the rough, uneven wall and Sam gritted his teeth as he felt it catch on his stitches.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice and the pain finally pulled him out of the shock-induced state and he squeezed Dean's forearm reassuringly. He wasn't blind. Behind his hundred different masks, Dean was just as disturbed as Sam.

"Okay," Sam took a deep breath. "I'm fine."

He nodded reassuringly till Dean reluctantly let go and stepped back.

"Well, ain't this a surprise," the blond Sheriff clapped her hands, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "Gotta say, you boys are cute. Never would think of you as scary-ass hunters."

"Uhh…thanks?" Dean answered, stepping in front of Sam. Sam could only shake his head at his brother's mothering.

"Time traveling, huh Jody," the woman turned to the other Sheriff. "Did you know about it?"

"I have some experience with it, yeah," Jody answered with a shake of her head.

"Really?" Sam perked up at that. It was as good as a distraction as any from the fact that in the future John will actually contemplate killing his own son. "Do you know how we can get back?"

"Sorry…Sam," Jody struggled with addressing him. "It was a time-traveling god and I was just helping Sam…other Sam...get back…other Dean."

"Wait, I time traveled?" Dean inquired. "Where?"

"To 1944."

"I traveled to the past?" Dean gaped. Sam smirked at how easily his brother got distracted. "Awesome."

"No, not awesome," a voice answered as the doors once again opened and Dean met a stern face of older Sam. He was followed by his brother, who still seemed to be fuming about something.

"How did I die?" John changed the subject and asked once they were inside, and only then did Sam remember the second half of what older Dean had said.

Their dad had died.

"You don't want to know." The voice of older Sam was sincere and quiet, filled with pain and loss.

"Please," John asked and if the whole situation hadn't been as serious, Sam would be shocked to hear his father say that one little word.

Future Dean ignored them completely and even turned away but Sam seemed to contemplate it and finally, much to his brother's discomfort, gave in.

"We got too close to…the thing that killed mom," Sam didn't meet their eyes as he spoke. His gaze seemed to be fixated on something behind them and his voice was barely loud enough to hear. "There was a car crash and…and Dean…" Future Sam glanced at Dean only for him to turn away. "Doctors said Dean wouldn't make it." His Adam apple bobbed as he tried to speak and every word he said made Sam feel colder and colder. "You sold your soul for him."

Sam and Dean almost instantly turned their heads to see John. The shock and pain only multiplied when he saw that John was completely calm as to what he had heard.

Sam wanted to say something. He needed to say something, but nothing but heavy breaths escaped his lips. Dean at his side seemed to have the same problem.

"Can we stop chatting and finally cut to the case?" older Dean grumbled. Sam noticed the future Dean's tight shoulders and pained expression as he turned to the two men who relentlessly, despite all the drama going around, were still guarding the door. It didn't take a genius to understand that Dean had not forgiven John's act. And at the same time, Sam was sure that the future him had. "What do we know?"

"Sorry, guys, but he ain't gonna spill a thing," one of them, with a bald head and a dark beard, spoke.

"We've tried everything we know," the other one, with tanned skin, added. "He hasn't said a word."

Future Dean rubbed his forehead and sighed. He looked around at everybody in the room and Sam only then noticed how tired he seemed. He wasn't the easygoing brother Sam was used to, whose biggest problem was striking out with the ladies or having a long night digging up graves. The Dean in front of him looked exhausted, annoyed, and frustrated with the whole world.

"Dean," a low, gruff and unfamiliar voice spoke before anybody could offer any advice and they all sharply turned around. In the doorway, there stood an awkward looking guy in a suit and a trench coat.

"Cas," future Dean sighed in relief. "Can't you enter like a normal person?"

"I did. I used the doors." The newcomer looked confused.

Sam frowned. Was the guy serious?

"What he meant is…" future Sam tried to explain, but his sentence died out as the newcomer's attention strayed elsewhere.

The guy named Cas looked around the room and Sam noticed how his eyes fixated on the three of them.

"They are…" He tilted his head and squinted at them, taking a few steps closer to them. Sam felt shivers run down his spine at his scrutiny, but he stayed in his place.

"Us. From the past. Yeah, we know," future Sam explained. "We need to send them back. Can you do that?"

"Send us back?" Sam asked, eying the guy, though he couldn't find anything special about him.

"Cas is an angel," future Dean answered casually.

Sam blinked. He was…what?

"There is no such thing," Dean voiced his confusion.

Sam glanced at their father and noticed how his father's hand lingered suspiciously close to his gun. Great. His dad thought it was a great idea to try and shoot an angel.

"Of course there is," the Cas guy answered and before Sam or Dean could even make a move, he crossed the remaining space and laid two fingers on Sam's forehead.

Sam felt dread settle in the pit of his stomach when a weird fuzzy feeling made him forget his initial fear for his life. He felt…good. Just good. A delirious feeling settled over him and made him so unnaturally calm and safe, and good that Sam felt his heart stutter in relief.

"Hey!" He heard Dean yell and opened his eyes to see him reaching for his gun.

"Wait!"

Sam stepped away from the stranger and, locking eyes with Dean, rolled his shoulder. He saw Dean's eyes widen. Sam was halfway through peeling off his bandage when Dean snapped out, but it was too late. By the time Dean grabbed his wrist, a healthy looking skin was exposed from beneath the bandage.

"No way," Dean gasped at him.

"See? An angel," Cas answered as if he had just proved a math theory rather than him being a celestial being. Dean kept looking back and forth from Sam's shoulder to the man and Sam started to fear his brother would sprain his neck.

John was suspiciously calm and kept looking at the guy. He was conveniently standing so he could pull out his gun in a matter of seconds. Sam seriously doubted bullets worked on his healer.

"Okay, you've met our angel," future Dean grumbled impatiently. "Let's move on. Again."

"Sorry, for pulling you into this mess," future Sam addressed the two bulky guys.

"It's the least we could do, after what you did for us," the tanned guy answered.

"Though we both agreed that this is as far as we go," the other one spoke. "We still haven't gotten tired of normal."

"Of course, man," future Dean grabbed the man's shoulder and squeezed. "Thanks for the help, anyway."

"Yeah, couldn't have done it without you," future Sam agreed.

"Well, you have the demon," he sighed. "But he ain't talking. And Jesse here is no beginner in interrogations."

"Is the vessel still…" future Sam gestured at himself with his hand.

"No, we saw him on a surveillance tape being shot in the chest," the man named Jesse answered. "That's how Cesar and I found him."

"I could suggest an interrogator," Cas spoke.

The future Winchesters turned around to face him, but the angel kept his eyes locked on future Dean. Sam had a bad feeling about it and apparently so did his counterpart.

"No," future Sam took a horrified step backward and then faced his brother with a shocked expression. "NO!"

The reaction made Sam forget all about his new-found peace. It was quickly replaced with cold dread.

"Cas, you know…" Dean sighed. Suddenly he looked much smaller and younger and Sam was generally baffled about the whole ordeal. He shared a confused look with Dean.

Their dad, as usual, was in his own little world and Sam had no idea what was going on in his mind. He had mostly kept to himself and kept watching every slightest movement in the room. He didn't even seem put off by the fact that he had died or the fact that they were literally in the same room with an angel.

"I know you don't like this suggestion, but the vessel is dead," the angel argued and Sam turned his attention to the group bickering in front of the closed door. "If the spell was strong enough to create time-loops, we can only guess what other damage has been done."

"NO!" Future Sam growled, but the sound died in his throat as Dean put out his arm in front of him. Future Sam faced his brother in disbelief. "You can't be thinking…"

"What the hell is this about?" Dean whispered in his ear and Sam could only scowl at him.

"How am I supposed to know?" He hushed his brother when he was about to ask something again and concentrated on the scene before him.

"Sam, the information we would get would be worth it," Cas was arguing. "It would be worth the sa…"

"Don't you dare say 'sacrifice', don't you dare," future Sam was shaking his head. "I think we already filled our quota a long time ago."

"Sam, I am not pleased with the idea but I see no other choice. Unless you want to call Crowley or Rowena." Cas scowled at the two names. "It's the most effective and time-efficient way of approach. I'm, sorry."

"No," Sam's counterpart was starting to breathe heavier. "Dean, you can't think of doing it!"

"Actually I can."

"Dean, no!"

"It's not like it's the first time I've done this."

"Yeah, last time you ended up in a hospital," future Sam threw his arms in the air.

Sam shot a startled look in Dean's direction, but his brother was preoccupied with the conversation. Sam took a second to look around.

Brian seemed bored in the opposite corner of the room, sitting on a table which barely held together. Both Jody and Donna seemed just as confused and out of place as Sam, and the scrawny guy with his wife were having a heated conversation of their own. Their conversation was in much lower volume, though. The wife looked upset about something and the guy seemed to be doing his best to convince her.

Once again Sam was left wondering what made this weird bunch come together.

"Sam, I'm doing this," future Dean announced decisively and Sam didn't have to be thirty-something-old to know what his counterpart's response would be.

"Dean…"

"Stop. I'm doing this. It's final," future Dean raised his voice at his brother and the moment Sam was too surprised and shocked to answer. Future Dean stomped out the door, leaving rest of them baffled once again.

"Wow. I really like dramatic exits." Dean snickered next to him and Sam without any remorse nabbed him in the ribs. With satisfaction, he heard Dean groan in discomfort, though the conversation had left him confused and more worried than he liked to admit.

Their future counterparts seemed close and Sam was relieved about it, but he couldn't help but replay in his mind all those tiny, meaningful, and sad glances. Sam couldn't read them. Didn't understand their relationship, the tone they used with each other. Their future selves were strangers to Sam.

"It better be worth it, Cas!" future Sam growled at the angel and Sam pulled himself out of his thoughts to delve on how angry and at the same time sad and terrified his counterpart looked at the moment.

After less than five minutes, Dean was back with a dark-green duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. He walked straight through the uncomfortable and heavy silence, which had settled over them, and headed for the door. When future Sam was about to follow him into the room with the demon, Dean stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I'm doing this alone, Sammy."

"Dean, no!" The pleading tone is future Sam's voice made cold fear settle in Sam's bones. But before future Sam even finished his plea, he was pushed back and the door in front of him shut.

"What the hell was that about?" John spoke up but future Sam didn't even glance at him. He was staring at the door while everybody else was staring at him. It was so quiet for a moment that Sam almost jumped out of his skin when his counterpart reared back and sent a nearby chair flying. The wood was already mostly rotten and beneath the force it shattered in pieces, sending splinters in every direction.

"WHAT THE HELL, SAM!" Jody shouted, shielding her head when a piece of wood came flying her way.

Sam knew the answer wouldn't come. Even if the guy was older, they were still the same person, and Sam recognized the pain and anger, barely kept together.

Turned out he wouldn't even have had a chance to answer.

An agonized scream flooded the room. Sam flinched in surprise and stepped back, bumping into his brother. All eyes turned to the door and future Sam but he wasn't even making eye contact, he was trying to bore a hole into the door with his look alone.

As the screams continued to make their way out of the room, future Sam froze in his spot, with his back turned to the rest of the world. Sam saw him clenching and flexing his fists, but he didn't move. He didn't enter the room.

Every once in a while, the screams would stop and the silence would let everyone take in a breath. In those moments they could hear a faint voice coming from the room. It was Dean's voice, but it was either too quiet to make the words out or the shouts had made them partly deaf.

Both sheriffs looked a bit green and the scrawny guy was hugging his wife, who had covered her ears and buried her face in his chest. The rest of them didn't seem that affected - Jesse and Cesar exchanged some tired looks and Brian kept glancing from the gap between the window's boards to the door, but that was it.

Still, Sam appreciated the weight of Dean's hand on his shoulder as they watched future Sam standing in front of the door like a statue – cold and unresponsive.

"It's going to be worth it, Sam." Castiel stepped closer to him, only to be faced with a blank expression.

"No, it's not."

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 **A/N Do you think the next chapter should be from Dean's POV(21-year-old)? What would you like me to include in the next chapters?**


	6. They are us

**Hi! I am so so sorry for the long wait! Real life doesn't like to be ignored but your reviews kept reminding me to work hard for all of you! Thank you! New Years resolutions - lets aim for regular chapters(again)!**

 **Disclaimer - CW still is the privileged owner of SPN.**

 **As always, it was brought to you with the help of** ** _ArtistKurai._** **So Thank You!**

 **Happy Reading!**

* * *

Chapter 6 - They are us

Dean saw Sammy pale more and more with every passing scream. He had almost taken his brother by the arm and led him outside, when the screams changed into shouts.

"STOP," the demon from the room shouted in a hoarse, worn out voice. Dean could only wince at how raw it sounded. "I'LL TALK! TALK!"

A silence followed and Dean could almost imagine his future counterpart standing there, weighing out his options.

It didn't last for long. A moment later a bang resonated against the door. At the first moment Dean didn't even recognized it as a knock. It scared the hell out of him and Sam jumped at his side. He scowled at his own counterpart's brutality, but it took the future Sam mere moments to pull the door open, just barley not ripping them from its hinges, and disappear inside.

With the same brutality.

Sam let out a deep breath and Dean squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as he listened to the muffled voices from the inside. Sam's shoulders were rising and falling too fast for his liking, but the only resolve he could come to was squeeze tighter.

"What's happening?" Dad next to them shifted his weight from one foot to another. Dean was sure their father was itching to get into action but didn't really understand where he should start. It wasn't like he was the only one with the problem.

"My guess is that they just killed the demon." Cas (Dean still doubted the angel part) responded.

"Demons can't be killed," John grumbled back as if he were offended, puffing out his chest. Dean decided to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. They had travelled through time, met their future selves, and possibly an angel. Hell, he was ready to believe Santa was real.

"Of course they can." The look the dark haired man gave John was so bewildered that Dean barely held his laughter.

John would have probably said something nasty but in that moment the door opened and both Sam and Dean stepped outside. Future Sam just stood there a bit dazed and pale.

"What did you find out?" the wanna-be-angel guy asked.

When future Sam turned to look him in the eye, Dean couldn't suppress the shudder. He pointedly avoided Sam's questioning glance and stepped away from his younger sibling. Sam would immediately feel his posture shift. Consequence of living in each other's pockets for all their lives. If Sam started to interrogate him, how could Dean answer why it pained him so much to see such raw hopelessness and loss in his brother's future self's eyes?

"Trouble," future Sam sighed and gave everyone in the room a short, stern look. "The spell he cast is trying to make the world collapse on its own."

"Wait. You meant he cast the Spell of Bonds?"

"What does that mean?" Dean groaned, shaking himself out of his depressed state.

"All layers of the world are interacted with each other. If something happens to one of them, the consequences are unimaginable," Cas explained. "The world is held together by threads or bonds. What the spell is doing is dissolving them and making the world lose its balance."

"I gather it's bad," Dean sighed.

"Very. It can create time loops, make the different levels morph into each other." The angel gave him and his family a pointed look.

"That explains us being here," John agreed, thoughtfully.

"If the spell is that awful, how did a lowlife demon get its hands on it?" Dean frowned at the man, who glanced at the interrogation room's door.

"Probably had a more influential accomplice."

"Is there a way to stop it," John asked, only paying attention partly.

"There is a counter spell," Future Sam sighed.

"Great," Dean answered, when Dad didn't show any sign of hearing the answer. "What do we need?"

"It's not that simple," Cas butted in.

Dean snorted, his eyes widening as his future counterpart mirrored him. He frowned at his own bewilderment. Of course they would share some similarities, they were basically the same person.

Still, Dean couldn't look at his own older, scruffier version and view him as Dean. Not to mention Sam. The guy was huge and Dean didn't like those flashes of hurt and tiredness passing his features.

He was glad that they had stuck together over the years, but a small part of him wondered if he was the reason for all that pain. If Sam had stayed with him and sacrificed his own beloved 'normal'.

Sam's worried look made him snap out of it and he allowed the familiar smirk form on his lips.

"Well, I would like to get this handsome ass in the timeline it belongs to, so what's the holdup?" Dean put his hands on the hips and squinted at the reluctant older Sammy. He half wondered if he would still be able to make the older version spill his beans just as easily as he could his Sam.

"There's no holdup. We have most of what we need at the Bunker, but we'll need help." Sam glanced back at the door they had come out of.

"What do you need?"

"Bunker?" Dean questioned at the same time with the lady Sheriff. Jody, Dean reminded himself.

"Sam," one of the two bulky guys sighed and future Sam immediately shook his head. So did his Sam, but he caught himself in time.

"Don't worry, Ceaser," Future Sam smiled and crossing the small distance between them, patted him on the shoulder. "You've already done more than we could've asked you. We'll take it from here."

"Just warn us if the world is about to end again." The other bulky guy – the bald one – sighed and shook Future Sam's hand.

"Will do," Future Dean came along and shook hands with both of them. "Thanks a lot."

They patted each other on the back and the two guys made a beeline for the door, nodding their goodbyes to the other people along the way.

Only a couple minutes after the door shut, they could hear a motor coming to life and in silence they listened as the distance between the vehicle and the house grew until they couldn't hear them anymore.

As soon as the sound of engine disappeared, Future Dean jumped into the action.

"Brian?" Future Dean motioned for the grumpy pants. "Can you give me a hand back there?"

With a slight nod and a suspicious glance at them, he picked himself up and followed future Dean inside.

Dean didn't miss how the thirty-something-year-old Sam's gaze followed his brother's back with a slight frown and tightly pressed lips.

"The demon," Sam quietly started. "He is dead, isn't he?"

"He is." Both Sams locked eyes, and Dean suddenly was too hot. Why did it seem like both Sams had their own language? And why did half of that language consist of lost puppy looks and hurt?

He needed someone to change the topic. Right freaking now.

Thankfully, someone did.

"What happens now?" their Dad asked in the tone that sounded more like an order than a question. An art he hadn't bothered to share with others. Well, Bobby also would sometimes have that effect. Dean wondered briefly whether his future self could also sound like that.

"We're gonna go back to the Bunker," Future Sam responded sharply, but he didn't elaborate any further and walked away to speak with both Sheriffs and the couple.

"Well, don't overshare," Dean muttered after him and turned to look at the seventeen-year-old Sam. "We're gonna work on your attitude real soon, buddy. I ain't letting you become that asshole," Dean pointed to the older version of Sam.

Somehow, unbeknownst to Dean, he must have heard because Future Sam turned around to give him one of the bitchfaces Dean was all too familiar with.

"Great," Dean sighed. "Now I have two people who make the same face at me."

"Stop playing around," their Dad slapped him across the back of his head. Dean was about to shoot him an offended look, but he walked across the room and sharply grabbed Future Sam's elbow, spinning him around and interrupting his conversation.

"Shit," Dean cursed. Sam wasn't easy to piss off instantly, but Dean knew that interrupting him rudely from a conversation was one way to do it.

Sam at his side took a step forward before Dean caught on and held him back. Even in that one step he could read the frustration and annoyance. Dean never, never wanted to experience a fight with two Sams. One was already barely consolable afterwards.

Besides, he could already imagine how Future Sam would snap back.

Except he didn't.

Dean's breath caught in his throat at the wide startled look in Future Sam's eyes. His eyes not moving away from the spot, where John's fingers were squeezing his forearm.

"I am done waiting!" John growled.

"Hey!" Both Sheriffs exclaimed but one look from John made them falter in their step.

"What that gu…Dean said. What did you do?" John asked sharply and this time it was Sam who had to prevent Dean from advancing.

"I have to stop him," Dean gave his little brother a confused look.

"Don't," Sam said, his mouth set in a hard line. Dean wasn't blind. He could see the pain and fear in his eyes. In his big, wide hazel eyes. "We could learn something."

"Sam…" He sighed and started to pry his jacket free of Sammy's fingers, when an unmistakable sound froze the blood in his veins.

A gunshot.

Dean didn't see what had happened, but Sammy's eyes were wide like saucers and he had lost all the color to his tanned skin. His fingers in Dean's jacket tightened even more till the fabric pulled at his skin uncomfortably.

A deep, gruff voice shook him from his state of shock.

"Let go of my brother."

Dean swirled back and took in the stony expression of his own counterpart. The door behind him was hanging on one hinge, revealing a body on the floor.

"Dean," Future Sam gasped.

His father was staring darkly at the gun in Future Dean's hand.

"I've killed Death for my brother," Future Dean responded as if guessing where John's thoughts where heading. "Believe me, I'll have no problem killing my father's lookalike."

"Lookalike?" Dean shouted, wrenching himself free of his brother's grasp and taking a stance between his father and the barrel of the gun.

"Dean!" he heard John hiss, but didn't pay much attention to it or the way he tried to push him back behind himself.

"Dean." He turned his head out of habit, though he knew that it was probably meant for Future Dean. The angel took a tentative step closer. "It really is John Winchester."

"I don't care," Future Dean growled, not taking his eyes away from John.

"Well, I do," Dean couldn't believe he was arguing with himself over shooting his father. Their father. Technically.

"Dean, don't be stupid," Future Sam's voice rang out from behind with surprising strength.

"Uh huh," Future Dean agreed nonchalantly.

"Dean," Future Sam stressed the word.

Dean saw his future self's composure shift, saw him glancing behind them and with a sigh of annoyance he lowered his gun. Much to Dean's relief.

"May I suggest we take this elsewhere?" The angel stepped in between.

"After I do some ass-whooping," Dean grumbled before turning his head back. "You okay there?"

"Yeah, yeah, go figure out your drama," Brian huffed, lifting a body draped in cloth over his shoulder.

Dean had thought his expression would soften, but as Future Dean turned around it was as stony as it was a few moments ago.

"Let's set out some rules," he crossed his arms over the chest and gave him and the John a long, serious look. "We," he pointed to himself and Future Sam, "are in charge here. You don't get to go all Godzilla on us."

Dean could feel John stiffen at his side and he sighed. John Winchester did not like to be ordered around. The fact that it was Dean who was doing the ordering…well, God really loved his jokes.

"Question," Sam raised his hand, at which Future Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Did you really kill Death?" Sam asked, brows drawn together.

A splutter from behind, made Dean turn around to notice a lightly flushed Future Sam.

"Of course that's what a Sam would pick out in the conversation," Future Dean muttered, voicing out Dean's own thoughts.

"How?" Sammy didn't relent, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper.

"That would be a story for another day," Future Sam moved to ruffle Sam's hair. The disbelief in the corners of seventeen-year-old Sam's eyes mixed with the O of his mouth, opened in disbelief.

Sam ruffling Sam's hair. Dean had to carve it in stone.

If he wasn't so concerned about the fragile truce between his father and his future self, he would have keeled over laughing.

"God knows, Winchesters love their drama," Jody spoke up and Dean blinked in surprise at her. He had forgotten there were other people there as well. "Cas is right, let's take it elsewhere."

"I'm good here." Dean groaned at his father's reply.

"Great, you can stay," Future Dean replied with sarcasm and Dean could only hope his Dad didn't hear the underlying challenge.

"Can we do the spell in the Bunker?" Future Dean asked Cas, making sure to completely ignore John. Dean knew the tactic, he had used it plenty of times on Sam.

"It would be preferable," the angel nodded. "If we gather all the ingredients, it will have better effect on countering the demon's spell."

"Great," Future Dean clasped the guy on the shoulder. "You should go ahead. We will follow…" he took a pause to glance at them, "…after we sort out this mess."

"You should take them with you," Cas added when Future Dean had almost turned his back on him.

"I what?" Future Dean's eyes first widened and then narrowed. "Weren't you the one who always complained about messing with time and all that bullshit?"

"If we don't succeed, it won't matter," the angel countered, and Dean could see his future self losing the argument. So Future Dean turned to Sam.

"C'mon man, help me here!"

"They will be safest with us," Future Sam shrugged.

"We can take care of ourselves," John butted in.

"See? They can take care of themselves!" Future Dean flailed his arm at them.

The face Future Sam gave him was one of his looks that even Dean could interpret and usually meant I-can't-believe-that's-your-point.

"And what if they get killed?" Future Sam added argument to the facial expression. "He dies," he pointed at Dean, "you die." The finger moved to jab in Future Dean's chest.

"Not quite," Cas butted in. "The spell has created such distortions that it probably would fail to happen."

Dean couldn't stop snicker from escaping as the angel found himself on the receiving end of Future Sam's murdering look. Damn, Sammy managed to perfect that look and make it even scarier over time.

"That didn't stop that bullet," Future Dean's forehead creased.

"The longer the spell is active, the lesser the consequences. I can guarantee, there would be no such effect now," the angel argued. "We could try it out," he pulled out a pointy silver knife out of nowhere and took a step towards Sam.

"Stay away!" Dean jumped in front of Sam alongside his father.

"Cas, don't!" Future Dean held him back by the shoulder.

"Whatever," Future Sam threw up his arms in frustration and pinned Future Dean with a warning look. "They are coming with us."

"Fine," Dean growled at his brother. "But they are not riding with us."

"We have our own car," John gritted through teeth.

"Which you probably stole," Jody stepped in, with hands on her hips. "No, you're coming with us," she motioned to her and the blond one. Donna. Maybe.

Dean was so not looking forward to being crammed in the backseat with his not-so-little-anymore brother and another person.

Dean could only hope it wouldn't be Dad.

"It could be a little…crammed," Sam spoke up, his brows knitted together in disapproval. Disapproval Dean could very much get behind.

There was a moment of silence and some intense exchange of looks, or glares in Dad's case, when Future Dean's shoulder's finally slumped.

"Fine. One of you can ride with us."

It was clear his counterpart meant him or Sam. Definitely no John.

"No," his Dad protested at the same time as Sam volunteered.

"Not alone," Dean found himself growling at Sam and silence followed.

Great. They were at crossroads again.

This time it was him and Sam who were doing the staring. And every passing second he kept looking into those stubborn eyes, he felt his resolve crumble bit by bit. God, he hated Sam's little brother superpower.

Thankfully, he was saved.

By himself.

"Fine. You can both ride with us," Future Dean sighed in defeat and looked at Future Sam disapprovingly. Future Sam looked strangely pleased.

"Awesome!" Dean beamed at Sammy, before their dad could shoot the idea down.

"Yeah, who would want to ride with two old lady cops." Jody shook her head in faked disappointment, but Dean noticed her wink at him.

He liked her.

"I don't like it." And of course, their Dad had to say something.

"Don't worry, Dad," Dean put an arm around Sam's neck, but let him go, when Sam almost immediately started to struggle against him. "Keep Sam safe. I know."

John's scowl didn't ease up, but as Dean glanced at the two chatting ladies, he doubted that the main reason was him and Sam catching a ride with their future selves.

"Uh huh," John responded gruffly.

"Meet you there," Dean's own response was a complete opposite cheerfulness and he had to turn away to not give away his smile. He could feel his father's suspicious stare though.

Oh, his Dad will have one interesting trip. Him on the other hand... Dean glanced at Future Sam and Dean gathering their things and chatting quietly with the scrawny guy.

"This is gonna be so much fun."

* * *

 **What do you think? Which ride will it be?**


	7. Sams and Deans

**A/N Look who's back! Sorry for the long break! Here's the new chapter. It's kind of short but I'll make it up to you in the next one. (I'm already working on it, don't worry, it won't take 2 months)**

 **Disclaimer - Still don't own Supernatural**

 **And of course, thank you to** _ **ArtistKurai,**_ **who still sticks with me and my irregular posting habits.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 7 - Sams and Deans

Sam was worried. And excited. And terrified. And Dean really didn't help his mental situation.

"I should be driving," he eyed the steering wheel before glancing at the house.

"Don't even think about it," Sam glared.

"But I should be driving!" he repeated.

"Technically you will," Sam snickered.

"Empathy, Sam. Empathy!"

"You're just being unreasonable," Sam responded and turned his head when the sound of creaking wood caught his attention.

Future Sam and Dean were walking down the steps with deep frowns.

"This is gonna be fun," Dean snickered, and Sam couldn't believe his brother actually rubbed his hands together.

Sam didn't have time to respond but he didn't waste the opportunity to jab his brother in the ribs before Future Sam and Dean settled in the car.

Future Dean started the car in silence, but Sam didn't miss the brief glance in the rearview mirror and then to Future Sam.

Awkward was saying it lightly.

"Where exactly are we going?" No sooner had the Future Dean reached to change the gears had Dean spoken.

"Home," Future Sam replied instead.

"You bought a place?" Dean gaped, and Sam could feel himself mirroring his older brother.

"Not quite," he relied. "It's more of a legacy."

It didn't really ease Dean's frown but it shut him up for couple of minutes. They made their way to the highway, and Sam couldn't help the small smile when he noticed Future Dean leaning in to turn on the radio. He was downright grinning when he recognized the tape.

Some things never change.

He also wasn't blind to the glances in the rearview mirror. Apparently Future Dean either thought they were going to jump out of a moving vehicle or suddenly turn into a monster.

"So," Dean stated in a matter of fact tone, arms crossed over his chest.

"So?" Future Dean asked back and Future Sam turned in his seat to look back at them.

Sam wanted to smack his brother.

"What have you been up to?" Dean asked leisurely and Sam couldn't believe his brother's carelessness. It was like he was talking to an old friend rather than their scary future selves. And yes, Sam was scared of them. Any normal person would be.

"No," Future Sam replied curtly before facing the road again.

"C'mon, Sammy!" Dean was definitely provoking the older Sam.

"Dean!" Sam snarled at him. He wasn't sure what offended him more, his brother's idiocy which, to be honest, he should already be used to, or the fact that he didn't like how Dean used his nickname. Not like Sam would ever confess to it.

"It's not like you're not curious!" Dean rolled his eyes at him.

Sam was. He had had this nagging feeling in the back of his mind and he wanted to ask. Because after sixteen years, Sam would be sitting in the Impala hunting down monsters with his brother. And he wanted to know. What happened with university? Did he fail? Was he stopped?

He could try.

"September 2001," Sam allowed his words to slip past his lips.

The Future Sam and Dean froze for one fraction of a second, but it didn't give Sam much information. Maybe just a bad feeling.

"Did it happen?" Sam pressed onward, trying to ignore his brother's confused gaze or furrowed brows.

There was no answer. Future Sam and Future Dean made eye contact and Sam thought that he saw sadness in Future Dean's eyes. He had already given up on getting his answer, when a soft 'yes' reached his ears.

Sam didn't know what to make of it. If anything, it only confused him more. There was a little smug feeling in his chest, but Sam shushed it.

"Okay!" Dean grumbled. "Mind sharing with the rest of the class?" He turned towards Sam. "What happens on September 2001?"

"Nothing," Sam shrank back.

"You're lying."

"I'm not." Even Sam knew it was a pathetic cover-up.

"Bullshit!" Dean raised his voice and Sam flinched. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!" Sam tried the same useless excuse.

"Dean!" Future Sam cut in, but Sam saw in Dean's eyes that it only added fuel to the fire.

"This clearly is not nothing! What do I not know?" He had feared this happening. He should have kept his mouth shut. "Don't take me for an idiot, Sammy!" The loving nickname was spat out like poison and Sam could only stare at his brother.

"I d...don't!" Sam tries to protest, but Dean only squinted at him.

"Stop the car," Dean barked, not turning away from Sam, and Sam felt freezing cold settle in the pit of his stomach.

"I am not…" Future Dean growled back, but Dean interrupted him.

"I SAID, STOP THE DAMN CAR!"

Sam pressed back into the door, half-hoping he could fall through it. He didn't know whether it was just pure instinct reacting to the sudden shout or Future Dean had reconsidered. Anyway, the car rolled onto the shoulder.

The motor wasn't even out when Dean threw open the door and was out, rounding the car and stomping into the woods.

"DEAN!" Sam grabbed for the door handle and toppled out of the car. "DEAN!"

He had to make this right. He had time. He hadn't planned to tell him so fast. A strong hand pulled him back and he let out a frustrated shout.

"No!"

"I'll talk to him," Future Dean passed him, pushing him back into another pair of strong arms.

"What have I done?" Sam gasped, watching as Future Dean caught up to his distressed brother. "What have I done?"

"Nothing," Future Sam offered, but Sam couldn't believe him.

"He's so angry," Sam struggled to take a deep breath. "If I tell him, he…he's not gonna talk to me."

"We didn't talk for two years," older Sam provided, and Sam forcefully turned in his arms.

"What?" he choked out.

"When I left…" Future Sam's eyes filled with such ancient pain that Sam felt like he had been kicked in the stomach.

"I have to stay," Sam rasped out, looking back at where the two Deans where talking. "I can't."

"No," Future Sam's grip on his arms tightened and Sam squirmed in discomfort. "Go."

"But you didn't speak for two years!" Sam answered in what sounded close to a whine.

"And it was hard," Future Sam looked at him sternly. "Go anyway. You'll never regret going."

"Then why are you hunting?" Sam tried to understand. "I want to go to college so I can have a normal life. This doesn't look normal."

"My family needed me," Future Sam answered.

"So I still don't get what I want, but I end up getting the silent treatment from Dean," Sam struggled out of Future Sam's hold. "I don't see a reason why I should put myself through that."

"It's your choice to make." Future Sam looked at the edge of the forest where both Deans were having what seemed to be a more heated discussion. "But I love my life. And I love my brother."

"I don't understand." Sam was aware of the fact that he was pouting.

"Well, I have sixteen years of experience on you," Future Sam smiled.

They stayed quiet for a few moments when Sam let out a deep sigh to calm his trembling nerves.

"Now we have definitely messed up the future." Sam rolled his shoulders.

"First we need to make sure there is a future." Future Sam was still looking at both Deans and Sam turned in time to see Dean's suspicious look at Future Sam before he turned back to his own future counterpart.

Another silence fell between them as they eyed the other discussion and Sam was once again the one to speak.

"I hate fighting with Dean."

"Me too," Future Sam answered in a serious tone, thought the look he gave him had mischief shining through.

Sam broke out into laughter.

He even noticed Future Sam smiling fondly.

"I see you've sorted out your teen drama," the rough voice of Future Dean interrupted his laughing fit and his smile died altogether as he laid eyes on Dean.

He opened his mouth to say…something, anything, but only the sound of air being forced out of his lungs passed his lips as Dean pulled him in a crushing hug.

"Dean?" Sam asked, afraid of scaring him.

"I'm angry," Dean's breath tickled his neck and Sam froze at his words.

"I…I…" What was he supposed to say?

"But I understand…I think…" Dean pulled back and gave him one of his goofy smiles, though Sam saw through it. Their fight wasn't over. They were bound to talk as soon as they got the crazy sorted out.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled anyway and received a ruffle of hair. He didn't even pull a face at that.

"I know. Don't be," Dean sighed before heading for the other side of the car.

Truce. That's what it was. Temporary truce. Sam didn't like it but he was thankful for what he got. It was at least something.

As all four of them took their seats and Future Dean started the car, it almost felt like a dream. Sam either kept staring outside his window or glancing at the two men in the front seats. Future Sam kept throwing fleeting glances at Future Dean. Sam couldn't decipher them, but apparently Future Dean could. He nudged Future Sam's leg and gave him a tiny lopsided grin.

"Stop thinking,"

"With all that's going on?" Future Sam answered. "I think not."

"Bitch," Future Dean huffed and Future Sam immediately responded.

"Jerk."

Sam stared at the two men in awe. Every time he started to think of them as strangers they did something that was so Sam-and-Dean that he got completely thrown back in surprise. He thought that they would fall back in silence, but Dean next to him let out a long breath and Sam knew silence was the last thing on his mind.

"Do we ever catch the thing that killed mom?" Dean asked so bluntly that it left Sam staring at him in slight panic. His brother apparently had lost all his bedside manners during the time jump.

Sam felt like he should maybe apologize but truth be told, he was just as curious. He didn't have much hope for an answer, and he wouldn't press on it, but he couldn't deny his interest.

The pair in the front seat exchanged one of their secret glances and sighed.

"We did."

"Really?" Dean perked up. "What was it?"

"Dean, you're messing with the timeline," Sam hissed at him.

"I don't care."

"Well, you should!"

"It doesn't matter," Future Sam interrupted before Dean could vocalize what his glare expressed so clearly. "You already know too much. Cass will erase your memory once we're done."

"What?" Sam gaped at his counterpart as Dean shouted, jumping forward and grabbing the backrest of the front seat.

"He can do that?"

"Yes," Future Sam frowned at them.

"Awesome. But no thanks!" Dean fell back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

"Sorry, buddy, but you don't have a much of a choice," Future Dean chipped in.

Sam was pretty sure he was being overly cheerful on purpose.

"My memories. I ain't letting some winged bastard take them away." Dean squinted at his future counterpart in the rearview mirror.

"You won't have much of a choice," Future Dean snickered, clearly challenging the younger Dean.

"Yeah? How come?" And, of course, Dean didn't back off in front of a challenge. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. The world had too many Deans in it.

"We could tie you up and leave you in our dungeon," Future Dean shrugged, eyes not leaving the road.

"Dean, stop!" Future Sam sighed but he didn't seem that appalled by the idea. "Were you always this annoying?"

Future Dean winked at him.

"Have I changed that much?"

"This is going to be awful," Future Sam sighed, but Sam didn't get to eye him more carefully, interrupted by Dean nudging him in the ribs.

"They've got a dungeon."

"Yes. And they are threatening to tie you up in it if you don't shut up," Sam whispered at him. He tried to control how much of his exasperation showed in his voice and carefully gauged his brother's reaction.

For a moment, Dean seemed to have forgotten about their feud.

"I can't believe you're not the least bit curious!" Dean instead rolled his eyes.

"I am! I just don't want my curiosity to end the freaking world!"

"It wouldn't be that bad," Dean shrugged it off.

"It totally would."

"Dean's right," Future Sam turned in his seat to face them. "As far as we know it's already ending. You knowing a few facts won't do much evil. Especially since you can't really act on them."

"So…you'll tell us everything we want to know?" Sam eyed his counterpart suspiciously.

"Not everything, but some things are bound to turn up eventually."

"See?" Dean's fist found its way to his ribs and Sam seriously started to worry about possible bruising. "Not the end of the world."

"I'd rather not challenge fate." Sam sunk back into the leather of the backseat.

"Fate was a bitch," Future Dean announced from the front. "She tried to blow us up."

Sam stared at the older Dean in confusion before massaging his temples. He was starting to get a headache.

"You've met fate," he mumbled. "Of course you have. You already told us you killed Death. What next? You're gonna tell us you're best buddies with God?"

Sam had meant it as a joke, but the startled look the older pair of brothers exchanged had him covering his face and groaning.

"Really?"

Dean on the other hand seemed rather taken with the idea. Sam didn't even have to look at him to know there would be a grin on his face.

"Awesome!"

* * *

 **A/N I know some of you are confused with the whole Future Winchesters and Past Winchesters deal. I am trying to make it less confusing so bear with me(and give me advice if have some ideas).**

 **Next chapter we finally start planning some ass-kicking!**


	8. Legacies and road trips

**A/N Hi! I am so sorry to have taken such a long unplanned break. My first year of uni is over so I am back to more regular updates. Thank you for reading this little monster and all the wonderful reviews.**

 **Also a big thank you to ArtistKurai and Piquelabaleine for helping me deliver the best possible version of this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer \- I still don't own the wonder that is Supernatural.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 8 - Legacies and road trips

Sam was jolted awake by a sudden stop of motion. He blinked his bleary eyes open and frowned at the darkness surrounding him.

"Wha…" His mouth felt dry and his thoughts still refused to form proper sentences, still foggy from the sleep.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," his brother's smirk appeared in his line of vision, though barely visible in the dark. "We're at the Bunker."

"Bunker?" Sam tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, muscles protesting as he sat straight up, neck feeling stiff and immobile.

"Our future place?" Dean frowned at him. "Buddy, that's one hell of a nap you took."

Sam blinked at him as finally the whirlpool of events came back to him.

"Must have been tired."

"I'd think so," Dean huffed out a fond breath. Sam was pulled out from his reverie by a set of doors slamming shut and he looked outside, where someone's headlights were illuminating a rundown looking place with a door, seeming to lead underground.

"Is it too much to hope it's not a cave?" Sam groaned.

"I know we've had our fair share of shabby motel rooms, but even I know we would never stoop so low as to live in a cave." Dean patted him on the shoulder before turning around and stepping outside.

Sam brushed a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to seem more or less on point before stepping outside as well. Just in time to hear the end of his father's frustrated speech.

"…worth it," John narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Next time you two get the cops." He glanced at Jody and Donna, both engaged in a conversation.

With the way they were throwing glances at John, Sam had a sneaking suspicion it involved his father. His dad passed him, giving him only a brief once-over before heading for the Future Sam and Dean. Sam didn't know whether to be pleased or pissed off to be dismissed so easily.

"What was that about?" Sam approached his brother who seemed awfully content looking at John's retreating back.

"Nothing," He smirked as they were approached by the two women. "I hear you had quite the ride, huh?"

"Oh, your father is one grumpy cherry!" the blond sheriff laughed, sharing a glance with Jody.

"Tell me something I don't know," Sam sighed. "I take it he wasn't the best company?"

"Oh, quite the opposite," Jody clasped his shoulder. "It's been a while since I've seen Donna enjoy herself that much."

Sam frowned at her and looked over his shoulder at Dean, who seemed just as confused.

"Just don't mention Donna to him for a while," she snickered, leaning in like they were planning some kind of conspiracy. "He kind of has a case of oversharing."

"You told him about us?" Sam frowned.

"Oh no," Donna jumped in. "It's their story after all," the blond sheriff jerked her head in the direction of their future counterparts, "I just shared my experiences."

"I don't think he needed to know how you think his sons are hot."

"But it's the truth!"

"I'll take that as a compliment!" Dean snickered interrupting both Sheriffs and Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

"It's not for you."

"The older me is still me." Dean winked at him and though Sam wouldn't ever say it out loud he was secretly proud of what kind of man he had turned out to be in the future.

The couple - they seemed so out of place Sam was sorry for them being dragged around with the rest of group - and the angel were already waiting for them and they all gathered around as the Future Dean unlocked the door and disappeared into the darkness. They all followed with Future Sam being the last to enter.

Sam suppressed the urge to grab the back of Dean's shirt. The many people surrounding them and the unknown place they were entering gave him a sense of insecurity. It was dark inside and all he could sense were the people surrounding him and the echoing footsteps in what sounded like a vast room. He liked to be in control of the situation and know what they were heading into but it seemed like he was nowhere near to figuring that out. The only thing he was sure of was his big brother's back in front of him. The one single person he could count on without fail. Even if that made him look like a kindergartner for God's sake!

Future Dean ordered them to stay put and he heard a single pair of footsteps moving further away till a flash of bright light made him squeeze his eyes shut.

As he opened his eyes he couldn't help but gasp. Dean beside him whistled.

"Nice digs," the scrawny guy, whose name Sam still couldn't remember, gasped.

"Home, sweet home," Future Dean said from the bottom of the stairs and Sam forced himself to stop staring and move forward. He tried to take in every detail of the place and get down the stairs at the same time. However, he got so enraptured with the technology he saw in the room below that he found himself missing a step before slamming into his brother's back.

"Jeez, Sammy," Dean grunted, holding on to the railing for support and giving him a teasing grin. "Can't you at least walk down the stairs without geeking out?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, getting himself back on his feet. He waited till his feet safely touched the floor before looking around again and followed his future counterpart further in to an adjoined room.

He forgot to breathe.

"Dean!" He barely found the voice to call out his brother, and even then it sounded suspiciously similar to a squeal. "There are more books here than at Bobby's."

He could only imagine what he could find hidden in their pages. There was an entire library. He stepped forward to inspect them more closely and run his fingers along the spines of them, marveling at the names he saw there. They were all monster-related. Vampires, werewolves, demons and even creatures he hadn't ever heard of – all neatly organized in a system Sam couldn't quite decipher at the first glance but was dying to learn. God knew Bobby could use some order in his house.

His daydreaming was cut short by a deep laugh and he looked aside to see Future Dean clapping Future Sam on the shoulder.

"That was exactly your reaction."

"Shut up," the older him shrugged his arm off.

"This is like a Batcave," Dean wondered out loud, and though he tried to play cool, Sam saw how his brother's eyes sparkled seeing the weapons.

"Enough drooling," their father's strong voice boomed from the entryway, making Sam sigh in regret. "What is this place?"

"It's a Men of Letters bunker," Future Dean answered.

Sam already opened his mouth to ask what it meant, but John beat him to it.

"They're a myth," he argued, suspiciously eyeing the interior like it would suddenly come alive and attack him. Sam was just taken aback by the fact that his father knew what their hosts were taking about. He had never heard of any Men of Letters.

"They haven't been active since the 60s, but they are not a myth," Future Sam explained. "They just liked to keep their secrets secret."

"Then how did you found this place?" John kept questioning. He didn't even seem to notice how nervous both Future Winchesters suddenly got. Sam just hoped his dad's suspicions didn't last forever. He had grown to trust the future Winchesters and his dad's interrogation was starting to annoy him more and more with every passing moment.

"We met a member who gave us the key," Future Sam answered after a noticeable hesitation.

"So a member of secret society just gave you, a couple of strangers, a key to their secret base?" John raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Future Dean opened his mouth to speak but he received an elbow in the ribs and gave an annoyed look to Future Sam.

"What is it?" Dean became intrigued in the conversation, having finally forced himself to look away from all the shiny blades on the display.

Future Sam pulled Future Dean by the elbow to the other side of the room. He looked a bit exasperated, whereas Future Dean just seemed tired. Sam couldn't quite hear what they said except that they were clearly talking about John, judging by the looks they kept throwing his way.

"Fine," Future Sam finally gave in as they headed towards a wall covered in shelves, though he seemed nowhere near pleased. "But if you mess up the order…"

"Cas said there wasn't much we could do to make it worse than it already is."

"That doesn't mean we have to tell them everything," Future Sam argued as he pulled a leather book from a shelf and they both moved towards the group and particularly John.

"We will get nowhere if he keeps questioning our every move. Besides I remember someone starting a shitload of fights in the past just because there were secrets kept during hunts," Future Dean gave Future Sam a pointed glance which earned him in return an annoyed face as Future Sam slammed the book on the desk in front of John.

"Thanks for pointing that out, Dean."

"You're welcome," Future Dean snickered.

Sam fought his way to be as close to the book as possible as his counterpart skimmed through the slightly yellowish pages.

"There," Future Sam pointed at what seemed to be a list of names. Sam didn't even get to sneak a glimpse at what exactly his counterpart was pointing when Future Sam stepped aside and John blocked the view, making Sam back off with an exasperated sigh. He cursed Future Sam's huge build.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sam heard John growl and a palm being slammed down on the book.

Sam glanced at Dean worriedly but his brother just shrugged. He was craning his neck to see better, but he seemed to have just as much luck as Sam had.

"It's the truth," Future Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked straight into John's eyes.

Dad seemed to consider something, looking back and forth from the book to the two Future Winchesters, much to Sam's annoyance, because he still didn't see anything beyond the yellow corner of the page.

"Let's assume I believe all this," John growled. "I still find it hard to believe that somebody gave you the key just because you may have been related to a long dead colleague of his."

Sam perked up on that bit of information. Did their father mean they were related to a member of the organization?

Future Dean opened his mouth, but Future Sam interrupted him.

"They needed somebody to carry on their legacy."

Sam eyed his counterpart suspiciously. He was certain that the older him was hiding something. John seemed just as suspicious but Future Sam held his gaze and John looked down at the book.

"So my father was a Man of Letters."

Sam felt his jaw drop and he met Dean's wide eyes before throwing politeness aside and jabbing the older Sam in the ribs to squeeze between the two men. Ignoring the dirty look his future self sent him, he scanned through the contents of the page.

There on the page filled with dozens of names he found one his dad had mentioned only a couple of times – Henry Winchester.

"Yes," Future Sam took back the book and wrapped his arms around it. "Now that you know how we got this place, can we please focus on stopping the end of the world?"

"That would be preferable," the angel Castiel spoke up. "While you were speaking, I prepared a list we need for this spell." He handed a short strip of paper to Future Dean who quickly scanned it before passing it on to Future Sam.

He furrowed his brows before looking up.

"Four threads?"

Sam cursed his lack of presence. Did nobody think to share any information with him?

"I'm guessing we can't just bring out the sewing kit, huh?" Future Dean addressed the angel and Dean snorted in his fist. Sam rolled his eyes at the similarity between both Deans.

"No," Castiel gave Future Dean a puzzled look. "We have to get the four threads from each of the dimensions."

"By dimensions you mean…" Jody urged for an explanation.

"Heaven, Earth, Purgatory and Hell," Castiel provided and Sam almost got a whiplash trying to look at the angel.

Sure, the man was an angel but Sam hadn't even considered the possibility of a Heaven. He had presumed that the angel was the same as all the other monsters. They were just there. He never bothered to question where the monsters came from or where they are going after a bullet is put between their eyes. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like a huge hole in all his years of monster study. He had come across Purgatory in his research but he never thought that the place existed.

A single brief glance at Dean confirmed that it was news to him as well. He listened to the conversation with furrowed brow and lips tightly pulled together.

Dad on the other hand lacked any kind of reaction. His sharp gaze didn't waver from the angel and to Sam it almost seemed like he was pleased.

"Let me guess, that requires a little road trip?" Future Dean sighed.

"No. This is more than a little road trip, you should know that, Dean," Castiel frowned at the future Winchester. "From my calculations we don't have enough time to get to all of them unless we split up."

"Wait, you mean we have to go to Hell?" Sam gaped both at the possibility of traveling to Hell and the fact that the Future Dean acted like it was any other milk run.

"Yes. I would say we have less than 48 hours to do that and complete the spell," the angel looked at him solemnly before raising his head to stare at the ceiling of the bunker as if he was listening to something.

"Dibs on Heaven," Dean shouted from next to him before earning an annoyed look from everybody in the room.

"Dean," Sam whispered at him.

"If Hell really exists there's no way I'm going to place where they burn you alive as a way of passing time. Haven't you seen the movies?" He whispered back.

"The threads should also be collected by a human, since human souls are the most neutral," Castiel added before Sam could snap at his brother for making jokes.

Sam turned his attention back to the angel as silence befell the room with worried glances being exchanged between the gathered people. Sam counted nine humans; it was more than enough to split in pairs and each take on the search for a thread.

"I've also come up with a plan," Castiel continued after the uncomfortable pause distracting Sam from already splitting people up into groups on his own accord. Sam wasn't sure he liked the worried glance the angel threw at the Future Winchesters. "I'm quite certain you won't like it," the angel added.

"Shoot," Future Dean sat down at one of the chairs as if condemning himself to receiving the unpleasant news.

"I could take Jody Mills and her colleague to Heaven. Only their souls need to pass, but with the cracks in the borders it shouldn't prove too difficult. The lycanthrope couple here could help your past selves get the Earth thread since I believe the time-travelers shouldn't be left alone. That leaves…"

"Hell and Purgatory to me and Sam," Future Dean finished for him and Sam again frowned at the ease the Future Dean talked about those realms.

"You are the most suitable for this," the angel looked almost apologetic.

"Wait," John growled his head turning to face the scrawny couple and took a slow step back, his hand reaching for the knife at his belt. "What do you mean lycanthrope?"

Sam was sure he knew the answer to his own question and so did Dean, because in his overly protective brother manner he took a step to put himself between the couple and him.

"Pull out that gun and I'll shoot you in the leg," Future Dean growled but John didn't take his eyes off the potential werewolves.

The mood in the room dropped from solemn to move-and-you-die serious.

"What kind of hunters are you if you don't know that werewolves belong with silver bullets in their brains?"

"The kind that knows hunting isn't just black and white," Future Sam growled as he put himself in front of John, shielding the couple who had taken a few steps back, hands raised in a peaceful gesture.

Despite the growing tension Future Dean hadn't gotten up from his chair. As if he knew his brother would take care of everything.

Sam couldn't not appreciate the gesture.

"Garth was a hunter before he was bitten," Future Dean explained but his eyes remained fixed on John's hands. "He's still a hunter. The teeth and claws are just a bonus."

"And he's just what? Going on a monthly supply run for human hearts?" sneered John.

"Ew! No!" Garth spoke up though he needed to crane his neck to see around Future Sam's much taller build. "We have a no humans policy! Only animals."

"And you seriously believe that?" John completely ignored the Future Sam and faced the Future Dean. Sam felt anger bubbling under his skin at his father ignoring even the adult him.

"If that ever happens, he knows the consequences," Dean just shrugged. "In the meantime, the world can use any hunter it gets."

Future Dean gave him a cold look which meant that it was clearly the end of this argument and though John settled back he still posed himself so he could keep the werewolf couple in his field of sight.

Both Sheriffs kept throwing worried glances between them. Future Sam took his time to make sure John wasn't going lash out before shaking his head as if trying to clear his head.

"Okay, now back to the topic," Dean sighed and Sam could only envy the ease with which he seemed to take everything in.

"Yeah, right!" Future Sam gave one last glance to John before addressing Future Dean. Sam could already imagine a plan forming in his future counterpart's head. "I was thinking we could hit Hell first and on our way out get the Purgatory's thread," Future Sam offered.

"That would take too long," Castiel sighed. "The most efficient way would be for you to spl…"

"No!" Future Dean barked out before the angel could finish. Sam flinched at his sharp tone. "We're not splitting up down there."

Future Dean looked pleadingly at his brother. Sam knew that look. Dean had looked at him like that whenever he wanted Sam to take his side.

There was a thoughtful pause before Future Sam addressed his brother.

"Dean, that is the most logical way."

"Sammy, no." Future Dean's voice was ice cold and reminded Sam of all the times John barked out orders at them. He looked sideways at his father who was frowning at the whole situation.

"I can take Hell and you know Purgatory inside and out," Older Sam argued. "We would be out in no time."

"When has something ever gone that smoothly?"

"We don't really have a choice."

"We should know better than to split up," Future Dean groaned but it was clear that he was losing the argument.

Not that Sam saw any sense in it anyway. He was no expert in Hell or Purgatory but he was sure it wasn't a good idea to go there on your own. Sam probably wouldn't feel safe even if he had a small army with him.

Future Sam gave Future Dean a pointed look followed by a pause in which his brother gave up with a sigh.

"Why should they take the Hell and Purgatory?" John growled out, surprising everyone in the room.

"Excuse me?" Castiel inclined his head in confusion.

"Why are they," John vaguely pointed in the direction of the future Winchester, "the ones taking Hell and Purgatory? We don't need some werewolves babysitting us. We could just as easily take one of those places."

Sam's eyes widened in disbelief and he heard Dean let out a barely audible sound of protest. He really didn't mind looking for the Earth's ingredient. More than that, visiting Hell was definitely not on his to do list.

"Because they are the best suited for this task," the angel seemed genuinely confused at what the problem was here.

"Why?" John insisted, but Sam knew his father's sharp tone will get him nowhere.

Future Dean let out an exasperated breath and Sam thought he would say something but the angel took on the role of the mediator.

"Because Sam and Dean Winchester are the most suitable choice and their chances are significantly higher than any other human's here."

"I taught my sons everything I know," John argued. "And since I am the most experienced hunter here, I should be the obvious choice."

"Uhh…" Castiel threw a worried glance at the Future Winchesters. Sam couldn't believe that their dad managed to dumbfound an angel. More than that, Sam couldn't comprehend why his Dad would willingly go to Hell.

"Look," Future Dean brushed a hand over his face and sighed. "You either do your part or we lock you up and send your ass back to the past in handcuffs."

John stared at the man in clear annoyance but Future Dean held his stare unflinchingly, and Sam gaped when John was the first to let up.

"Fine, but we're not traveling with that," John dismissed the werewolves with a sneer.

"Then you're not traveling at all," this time Future Sam insisted.

Sam had gotten tired of his Dad relentlessly fighting against their own future counterparts. The aura their future selves emitted was nothing like he had ever felt before, but he felt oddly calm putting his trust into these two men.

"Oh, come on!" The scrawny guy finally spoke up in an overly cheerful voice when the tension could be almost tasted on the tongue. "We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Kill me now!" Dean beside him groaned and Sam felt the corners of his mouth lift a tiny bit.

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 **A/N I wonder why was John so insistent on going to Hell? Any theories?**

 **Leave me a comment since I am not sure how good this chapter actually is! :)**


	9. Weapons and chick flick moments

**A/N Hello, I'm back with my irregular updates! This is the last chapter before we get some more action and ass-kicking. This one is all about the feels. :D I hope you enjoy it!**

 **A huge thank you to ArtistKurai for being a beta-reader.**

 **Disclaimer** **\- Still don't own Supernatural**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 13 - Weapons and chick flick moments

The air was filled with anxiety. That's the best way Sam could describe the feeling. As both Future Sam and Future Dean disappeared somewhere to gather supplies, he was finally allowed to explore the place. Nevertheless, he got a feeling that even if he spent his whole life in this...Batcave, he would never manage to learn all its secrets. Getting tired of his father's constant grumbling and suspicion he had taken the book - "Classification of ghosts and their characteristics volume 1" - with him and went in a search of a quiet corner. They weren't supposed to leave till a couple of hours later - apparently opening a gateway to Purgatory required some research and a couple of annoying phone calls - so Sam decided to actually learn something. He would talk later, when the world had been saved, with his future counterpart to spare him this newly required knowledge in case their memories truly got whipped.

His quiet read about the newly dead vengeful spirits got interrupted much too soon to his annoyance when he heard voices from a room couple of doors down the corridor to where he was sitting on the stairs.

"I don't like this, Sam," he recognized Future Dean's voice.

"I don't fancy you going to Purgatory either, by you don't hear me complaining about it every five minutes," Future Sam answered and Sam couldn't help his curiosity so he slowly got up and shuffled closer.

A loud sigh came from the room and he heard some shuffling.

"This is going to go so wrong," Future Dean complained and was met with a humorless laugh.

"Something always goes wrong," Future Sam replied and Sam could hear bed springs squeaking.

"You know? I thought we were done with this time traveling shit," Dean huffed. "This is so messed up."

"You're telling me," another humorless laugh from Future Sam. "As if dealing with young you isn't hard enough, we got Dad as a bonus."

"Teenage you is not such an angel either," Future Dean laughed and a soft thud resonated from the room followed by an offended 'Hey' from the older Sam. Sam himself had been on the receiving end of Dean's hearty punches enough to know that that was the case.

A silence followed and Sam thought that their little heart-to-heart had ended when Future Sam huffed and spoke up out of the blue.

"The young me has just received the letter."

Sam had no doubt about which letter they spoke. There was only one, whose weight had been both a burden and a blessing. Sam sometimes feared that an object that important would have a mind of its own. He remembered all the late night sneaking around to make sure the envelope hadn't spontaneously moved from its place or that it hadn't disappeared. Every time he had walked in a motel room and seen Dean reading a piece of paper he'd gotten cold chills fearing that the letter had been found. For weeks on end he had felt the weight of the secret slowly crushing him into the ground and now that Dean knew about it, now that he himself knew about the consequences, he dreaded the moment when he'd have to make a decision.

Another silence befell before Future Dean spoke, "And?"

"He's scared," Future Sam admitted.

Sam blew out a breath quietly and rolled his eyes. That's an understatement.

"Were you?"

Future Sam let out an echo of a laugh at the memory. A memory Sam didn't yet have. "I was terrified."

"I'd say it turned out better than hoped," Future Dean laughed.

"We're still alive," Future Sam agreed, "despite every monster that wants to kill us."

"Come on! What can be more horrible than God's evil sister," Future Dean laughed, though to Sam it was only a reason for furrowing his brows even more. He decided to store that bit of information in his head for later pondering. Along with almost everything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

"I'd say Dad sometimes cuts pretty close," Future Sam groaned before adding. "Don't give me that face. You know I'm right.

Sam couldn't say he disagreed with his future self. Sam only wished he could see the Future Dean's face, but Future Dean spoke up again.

"It's Dad," he explained. "He has his own way of handling things."

"He always does," Future Sam seemed to agree but then groaned. "It doesn't make this whole situation easier."

"Just add that to the pile of things that complicate our job," Dean answered, however this time the sound of his voice was accompanied by footsteps, "Including this one."

Sam was too focused on hearing more of the conversation to react to what the nearing footsteps meant and before he could react he was already faced with the Future Dean's victorious smirk, "Well hello there!"

"Uh…" Sam inwardly cursed his sudden lack of words. "I was just reading," he lamely raised his book in defense and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him when he saw Future Dean raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"Of course you were, Shakespeare," Future Dean grinned and took the few steps back into the room.

Lost as to what he was supposed to do, Sam decided to follow him inside since hiding was pointless and would only add to his embarrassment.

The room was nothing special. There was a single bed and the walls were bare except for a device mounted on the wall which Sam guessed to be a TV. A very large TV. On every available surface, there was a weapon of some kind. Sam saw knives, machetes, shotguns, pistols, and several boxes of bullets.

His future self sat on the floor leaning his back against the bed and was wiping a long, silvery, spear-like knife. He only briefly glanced at him with an understanding smile playing on his lips before returning his gaze to the weapon in his hands. Future Dean took his seat at the desk and immediately got to work sharpening a machete. Sam recognized some items from the arsenal in the Impala and couldn't help but smile at the familiarity.

"What is that?" he asked after watching Future Sam pick up another shiny blade.

His counterpart raised the blade in the air, "This?"

Sam nodded. The Winchesters were not ones for shiny things so he guessed the weapon had a particular ability other than looking like a giant silver toothpick.

"It's an angel blade," Future Sam explained, before swiftly throwing one of them for Future Dean and wrapping the other one in a cloth.

"What does it do?"

Future Dean snorted at him and Sam furrowed his brows in confusion, "It kills angels."

"And demons," Future Sam added.

That didn't ease Sam's confusion at all.

"Why would you want to kill an angel?" he asked, remembering all the times he had prayed to them when he was little and his brother and Dad were late from a hunt.

"Because they are douchebags," Dean explained, "and they wanted to start the apocalypse."

"But you have an angel out there," he pointed to the doors.

"Cas is different, he's the good guy," Dean pointed out, not taking his eyes off the knife he was sharpening.

"So he didn't want to start the apocalypse?" Sam questioned.

"He did…at first" Dean looked up at him and then groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Look, kid, it's complicated."

"Everything is," Sam answered half-heartedly.

Just then the sound of falling footsteps resonated from the hall and all three of them raised their heads to meet the visitor. Castiel stepped over the threshold seeming a bit distraught at finding Sam there as well.

"I…" He eyed Sam briefly before giving a questioning glance to Future Sam and Future Dean.

"What is it, Cas?" Future Sam prompted him.

"I think it would be time to contact Crowley about access to Hell," he suggested. The mutual groans from both Future Winchesters didn't reveal anything promising about the newly introduced ally.

"Do we have to?" Future Dean whined.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but he's probably our best bet," Future Sam huffed. "We'd actually have a chance of finding a reaper who wouldn't kill us on first sight."

"But really?" Dean didn't relent.

"In that case, you could ask the witch," the angel suggested.

Sam, who until then was throwing glances between the speakers, got even more confused when their future counterparts started up protests.

"I'd rather not. Where Rowena goes Crowley follows," Future Dean complained. "I don't wanna deal with their family drama right now. I have enough of my own at the moment, thanks."

"I agree. Dad will probably want to shoot us just because we asked for a demon's help. No telling what he'd do with four different supernatural beings all in one room," Future Sam stated, a humorous smirk playing on his lips.

"He'd lose his marbles," Future Dean snorted.

Sam in the meantime was lost to this peculiar conversation. The amount of concentration he had to put in just to understand the conversation was giving him a headache and he felt all the day's long events starting to catch up to him. Looking at the ticking clock on the wall he was surprised it showed only 3 AM. He was surprised to realize that all the events had only happened in the span of twenty-four hours. Internally Sam felt like he had aged decades. The silly thought made him cast a side glance at the older Sam.

"Fine," Future Sam said as Sam finally tuned back into the conversation. It seemed like they had finally come to a decision. "I'm gonna go and try to speak with the King of Hell without killing him."

"You do that," Future Dean yelled after Future Sam as he and the angel left the room leaving Sam and Future Dean alone…and in a very awkward silence.

"Soooo," Sam scratched the back of his neck, feeling nervousness creeping up into his bones.

Future Dean just huffed and gestured to the bed, "Take a seat."

He did. He carefully tiptoed around the weapons which Future Sam had been occupied with and settled on the other side of the bed which wasn't covered in weapons.

Future Dean must have noticed how stiff his posture and how he tried to take up the least possible amount of space in the bed because he groaned at him, "Jeez, relax! I'm not gonna bite you."

Sam eyed him wearily but tried to force his shoulders to relax. That was a surprisingly difficult task.

"Lay back," Future Dean commanded nonchalantly at which Sam only made wide eyes.

"What?" He squeaked. Internally Sam wanted to slap himself for making such a sound but he was currently too occupied with deciphering what the Future Dean wanted from him.

"Just do it," Future Dean rolled his eyes at him before picking a gun to clean.

Completely bewildered but lacking imagination as to what he should do except listen he lay down in the bed, neck craned almost painfully so he could keep the older Winchester in his line of sight.

Future Dean looked up from his work and raised an annoyed eyebrow at him, his expression set as if he was completely done with Sam's confusion.

"Sleep, Sam." he ordered a slight smirk setting in his expression as he shook his head.

Sam wasn't completely sure what was happening at the moment, "Uhhmmm?"

Seeing his confusion and bewilderment at the whole situation Future Dean raised his head again. "You're tired and we have a long day ahead of us. It's better if you catch some z's."

"Aren't you gonna sleep as well?" Sam looked at the bed and then again at the future counterpart of Dean.

"It's Sam's bed," Future Dean explained. "I'm sure he won't mind."

Sam still wasn't so confident but feeling the tiredness relentlessly weighing down his bones he reluctantly gave in, "Okay."

He set his head full on the pillow and turned to his side getting more comfortable.

"See?" He heard Future Dean's voice from the foot of the bed where he was rummaging in a chest there. "That wasn't so bad."

The next thing he knew there was a blanket covering him and he startled as the material maked contact with his body. He flinched as he threw a surprised look at Future Dean, who just looked back at him in amusement.

"The blanket won't bite either."

"I know," Sam growled in response, making a show of pulling it tighter around his shoulders and showing Future Dean that he was not scared of the gray piece of fabric.

He heard Future Dean settle back on the chair and return to cleaning his weapons, all the while Sam's eyes scanned the wall he was facing at the items positioned on the shelf there. There were books, folders of papers, a tangled mess of wires in one corner, and even a half empty glass of water.

He tried to relax and allow the exhaustion lull him in a couple of hours' long sleep but he was almost painfully aware of Dean, who wasn't really his Dean, sitting a few feet away from him.

Future Dean didn't seem bothered in the slightest by his presence and Sam felt a bit jealous of the way the Future Winchesters seemed to have accepted them so easily. Like it wasn't unnatural at all to meet their past selves.

Sam couldn't stop thinking about everything he had seen and learned about their upcoming years. The people surrounding the Future Winchesters and the bunker itself seemed so foreign and he could never imagine associating those things with the current him.

Sam wasn't sure whether to be amazed and proud of what they would eventually become or be wary and even scared.

"Were you angry?" A question escaped his lips and his eyes widened at the realization that he had said it out loud.

"About what specifically?" Future Dean asked. "I can't read minds, Sammy."

Something caught in the back of Sam's throat at the nickname but he pushed past it. "When I left for school."

There was a pause which was enough for dread to settle in Sam's heart.

"I was hurt," Future Dean ended up answering. "I lived with it and it's in the past."

"And now?" Sam couldn't help asking.

Instead of a reply he heard him get up and he was afraid that the older man would leave the room to avoid answering, but a brief look showed him that the Future Dean had just moved across the room to pick up a gun.

He settled again in his chair before answering, "We've made our fair share of mistakes and we've had plenty fights but Sam is still my brother and I love him."

"That's…" Sam blinked away the moisture gathering in his eyes and laughed, "that's so sappy."

"Shut up!" Future Dean grumbled but it only made Sam's happy grin split even wider.

This time the silence that followed was more comfortable and he finally felt the last bit of tension slip from his shoulders as he settled deeper in the mattress of Future Sam's bed.

Sam felt as if he could almost taste his own exhaustion on his tongue and it made his eyelids feel heavy. His thoughts still hadn't slowed down so he still was lingering on the verge of sleep.

Sam knew himself and his brother well enough to know they wore their hard masks like professionals. He doubted that would change much. Maybe the masks would get thinner over the years and they would learn to read through the cracks better but Sam was sure that they were never completely taken off. With a fond smile he remembered his conversation with Future Sam on the side of the road and before he completely slipped into his sleep he allowed himself this one single show of emotions to his brother who wasn't really his brother at the moment. His future brother.

"He loves you too," he said, quiet enough to sound like a secret but loud enough to make sure it reached Future Dean's ears.

Because he knew that to be a fact, both in his time and in the future, and he also knew that it had probably been said out loud to other people but never to each other.

Honestly, Sam doubted it would ever be said face to face.

It was okay.

He knew it was there anyway.

* * *

 **A/N Drop a comment and please yell at me if I still haven't posted a chapter next week!**


	10. Travel sizes and driving companions

**A/N I am back later than hoped. An also -this chapter is a very late birthday present to** **Marguerida** **for yelling at me. I hope you like what you read! :D I'm sorry I haven't responded to any of your comments, the free time was in short supply, but I still appreciate them and I try to take them in account as much as possible.  
**

 **Huge thanks to my beta -** **Piquelabaleine**

 **Disclaimer** **\- Nothing's changed. Still don't own SPN.**

 **And as always - Happy Reading!**

* * *

Chapter 10 - Travel sizes and driving companions

The library was slowly filling back up with people as the time for departure unnervingly neared. Future Sam still hadn't returned from his trip to meet the demon whose help they needed to get to Purgatory, and Hell and Future Dean was suspiciously busying himself with the last check-ups. Sam had lost count of how many times he'd seen Future Dean cast a] glance at the bunker's entrance.

Sam cast a sideway glance at Dean, who was eyeing the weapons Future Dean had offered them with a look so full of longing Sam hadn't seen directed even at woman.

"You know you can touch them, right?" he whispered to his brother who stood a couple of feet away from the table where the weaponry lay

"Shut up," he growled but as he was about to finally step closer the squeak of the metal door opening announced the arrival of Future Sam.

All heads turned to the pair making their way down the stairs and Sam couldn't stop staring at the shorter man clad in an expensive suit and wearing a cocky grin as if he owned the whole world (which at the moment was ending).

"Ain't this a pity party Winchester style," he smirked as he looked them all over. His gaze lingered a bit longer at him and Dean and he raised a mocking eyebrow, "Hello there, small-sized Moose and Squirrel." Sam shared a confused look with Dean who only shrugged at him, his attention focused on the new guest.

The demon turned to their future counterparts and it didn't escape Sam how comfortable the demon looked surrounded by people whose job was to kill creatures like him. "Should have told me sooner that you two come in travel sizes as well."

"Shut up, Crowley," Future Sam barked at the demon and crossed his arms over his chest as if he needed that extra inch to look more intimidating.

"Oh, and I see dear daddy's here as well," Crowley completely ignored the Future Winchester and instead directed his supposed humor elsewhere. At least Sam guessed it was the demon's way of being funny. "Winchesters sure have problems staying dead," Crowley shook his head in theatrical disappointment.

"We could make sure you stay dead," Dean snarled at the demon; at which the demon only let out a long breath and looked at Future Dean as if he was a disappointed parent.

"I see the small you already has that huge Winchester ego."

"Enough of the drama, Crowley, we have work to do," Future Dean growled in response.

"Fine," he groaned but didn't miss adding, "always so serious. No wonder your life sucks."

"Crowley," Future Sam warned in a low tone.

"Fine," Crowley huffed out an exasperated breath looking over the room for a brief second.

"Who's he?" John growled when it seemed that the demon had finally calmed down and wouldn't start shooting off another wave of smart remarks.

"This is Crowley. He's-" Future Dean started explaining, before Crowley managed to interrupt him.

"Former King of crossroads, now King of Hell and devilishly handsome if I may add," Crowley smirked. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"A demon?" John growled as he subtly moved his weight from an almost relaxed pose to a tense one. For a moment Sam saw a beast ready to charge in his father.

Apparently he wasn't the only one because Future Sam shifted closer to John so he could whisper something in his ear. Sam couldn't hear what but John gritted his teeth and flexed his muscles and surprisingly stayed put. His eyes were flashing dangerously and Sam could only imagine how enraged he must feel at losing any control of the situation.

He tried to ignore the pleasant feeling in his chest at seeing Future Sam giving orders to Dad. He also definitely didn't see the self-satisfied flash in Future Sam's eyes.

"Crowley?" Future Dean continued after exchanging a brief look with older Sam. "Can you get us in and out?"

John and Dean frowned at the question but Sam finally felt like he understood their position. For the first time in days Sam finally felt like he wasn't being left out of the flow of the information.

"I have a contact who owes me. But the gateways won't stay up for long," Crowley said as he made his way to the alcohol stand. "The layers have gone so crazy that he'll have to open two separate doors for when you enter and leave. You'll literally have seconds to step through or you risk getting thrown into the dimensional blender."

"We'll need twelve hours," Future Dean stated.

"That can be organized."

Sam had no idea why the Future Winchesters were so trusting of the demon but he could feel hope spark to life in his chest hearing that plans were finally being set in motion.

"Contact your reaper," Future Dean ordered, pulling a dark jacket over his checked plaid shirt. "We leave now. Gather whatever you need," he faced the rest of them.

"I have everything I need in my car," Jody answered with Donna at her side.

Future Dean nodded an affirmative before facing their group. Sam recognized the determined look in his eyes. It was more intense than what he was used to from Dean but it still meant business.

John stared at him angrily before stomping his way to the table and giving the weapons a look of disdain, "What are we supposed to take, anyways. As far as I know, we know zilch about what we could encounter."

"I'd say a gun and a couple of silver blades should be a start," Sam offered, trying not to feel too much disappointment at the annoyed look his father gave him.

"Take these as well," Future Sam offered three of the long silver knives Sam had seen earlier.

Future Dean seemed to agree with a soft hum but added, "And please don't lose them. They aren't easy to come by."

Sam was the first to take his as Dean and John looked a bit wary of them, but judging from what he'd heard about the blades Sam couldn't wait to get his hand on them.

"We won't." Sam weighed the blade in his hand marveling at how light it felt.

When Dean still hadn't taken his, Sam leaned in so only his brother would hear and explained, "They kill demons."

Much to Sam's amusement Dean's eyes widened in wonder before he immediately sprang into action and grabbed his, "Cool!"

John was the last to reluctantly take his blade and his untrusting glance at Future Sam was met with an equal distrust on Future Sam's part.

"Fine," he grumbled. "So how are we supposed to find this thread?"

"With this," Sam showed them a black square object.

"With a shiny piece of plastic?" John raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Future Dean snorted and everyone's attention immediately snapped to him. Sam was just as confused as his father and he didn't see what caused Future Dean's laughter or the amused smirks from everyone else in the room.

"It's a phone," Future Dean explained when he calmed down.

Sam furrowed his brows and looked from Future Dean to the black object and back, "No, it's not."

"Don't look at me like I lost all my brain cells," Future Dean smirked at him. "That's a normal, functioning phone," he pointed at the object.

"Where's the buttons?" Sam asked instead and for some reason Future Dean folded in laughter.

"Oh God," Future Dean laughed. "This is so good." His whole frame shook from mirth as he wiped a stray tear in the corner of the eye.

"I suggest you accept that it's a future version of a phone, Sammy" Dean snickered next to him and Sam didn't spare him from a glare of betrayal.

He'd had enough of his brother annoying him daily; he did not need another Dean making fun of him.

"Past you is so cute," Future Dean looked at Future Sam who threw him a murderous look before smacking him in the head.

"Don't call me cute," he growled, making his way to Sam. "Look, you unlock the phone like this," Future Sam pressed a button on the side and the box lit up much to Sam's amazement. "You touch the screen to press on whatever you need," Future Sam demonstrated. "And you use this to call," he opened a list of contacts with four names there: Dean, Sam, Jody and Cas.

Sam gently took the device from his future counterpart, trying to repeat whatever he had done.

With Dean watching over his shoulder, Future Sam showed them how to use a tracking program.

"Understood?" Future Sam asked and he reluctantly nodded. He looked sideways at the smirking Future Dean and glared at him. He felt so stupid now.

It didn't help that his own Dean was parading the same grin.

"Sam, you're in charge of that," John ordered, eyeing the phone like it could come to life at any moment. Sam could completely relate to that feeling.

"Garth will accompany you," Future Dean reminded them again and Sam felt that it was for the single reason of John even failing to acknowledge the werewolf pair's existence since finding out their true species.

Sam saw his dad's facial muscles flex but there was no cursing or threatening, instead he focused on picking out a machete and a couple of knives from the arsenal on the table.

"Cool," Garth smirked. "I'll drive," he announced happily as if there was no care in the world.

Sam blinked at him in confusion. He started to think that the scrawny guy had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever and he had seriously started to worry if the guy would be killed before they even saved the world.

"I'll drive," John growled, making his way past the werewolf couple and to the garage, leaving the group to give him curious glances. He was like an upset dog – barking and growling but not really doing anything at the moment. Sam couldn't help but think that John was waiting for something.

"Nice guy," Crowley chipped in, completely ignoring Future Sam's growl that followed.

"We should probably go as well," Jody offered. "Before your daddy takes off alone."

Sam shook his head in defeat and together they made their way to the garage where John was already scowling at them with his hip resting against the side of a pale green pickup truck.

"I forgot he liked to scowl so much," Future Dean jabbed at Future Sam's ribs. "I see where you get that bitch face from."

"Not funny, Dean," Future Sam sighed and turned his head around to face them. "Try not to kill each other. Bess will stay here. You find the thread and you head right back. Call if you get into trouble."

"You forget I taught you everything you know," John interrupted before Sam could answer.

"This is not the world you know," instead of snapping or growling at him Future Sam answered calmly, sincerely. "Be careful."

John who seemed to be thrown off track by such a gentle response stared at the Future Winchesters blankly.

"Come on," Dean nudged him into the backseat where Garth was already waiting for him with a bright smile.

"Guess we're bunk buddies," the older man smiled.

Sam forced out a stiff smile turning around to glare at his brother as he made his way around the car and settled in the front seat.

"Traitor," he slapped him at the back of his head as soon as he settled before quickly avoiding the counterattack. Dean could glare as much as he wanted. He was not the one stuck in the backseat with an overeager hippie.

Sam tuned in to his dad and future Winchesters just in time to hear his dad say something that sounded very similar to 'watch each other's backs'. He immediately looked at Dean to see if he heard that as well, but his brother was fidgeting with the angel killing blade. A look sideways though showed him a smug Garth. As soon as their eyes met, he fondly put his hand on his knee and half whispered.

"Your dad is such a softie."

He smiled nervously before watching the two sheriffs hug their goodbyes to the Future Winchesters and raising their hands to him and Dean.

He returned the gesture in the hopes of trying to get out of starting a conversation with his new buddy and settled deeper into his corner as John got in the car and started the engine.

"Onwards we go," Garth laughed and Sam hid his face in his palms. Glaring through his fingers at Dean who was smirking in the rearview mirror.

They followed the Sherriff's truck out of the bunker with the Impala following them closely behind. From his seat Sam had good look at Dean's face and he recognized the stern, stone cold look there. His brother was ready for the hunt. At those moments he reminded Sam of their dad more than ever.

Soon enough though the three cars parted ways and Sam focused all his attention to the map on the phone. Their destination surprisingly weren't that far away. It was about a four hour drive there if everything went smoothly and the red dot on the map seemed to be located in a forest.

It seemed almost suiting, knowing that they mostly spent their days hunting in abandoned houses, cemeteries or forests. Sam had started to think that their little road trip wouldn't be as awful as he had feared and he would actually get some peace, when Garth breathed out a long breath.

Sam could only imagine what would come next and silently prepared himself for another strange conversation.

"So…" Garth stretched the two-letter word, making sure to get everybody's attention. "Which year are you from?"

"None of your business," was John's immediate reply.

The werewolf almost whined at that, "C'mon, it's just a friendly conversation."

"I won't bite," he then added and laughed at his own joke. "You saw what I did there? I won't bite? Funny."

Dean rolled his eyes in the front seat, "We sure did, buddy."

"I have a better question," John interrupted. "How do you know my sons?"

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dad's choice of words but otherwise stayed silent, curious as to where this will lead. It was the first time John referred to their future counterparts as anything other than strangers.

"Oh, everybody knows the Winchesters," Garth laughed like it was the silliest thought in the world. "In this time Sam and Dean Winchester are a bit legendary."

"Really?" Dean perked up hearing that and Sam could see the curious glint in John's eyes.

"They were kinda mad at first when you two started the apocalypse, but they're cool now," the scrawny guy smirked.

"Started the apocalypse?" John growled and for some reason directed the angry look at Sam.

"All's good now," Garth tried to ease John but it didn't take.

"How did they cause the apocalypse?" John pressured instead and Garth finally seemed to sense that he had steered the conversation in the wrong direction. Sam could see him struggling to get out of the situation.

"It was the angels' fault really," Garth tried to convince the older man. "Sam and Dean won."

"Uh-huh?" John didn't look convinced and looked at Dean who raised his arms in surrender.

"Hey," he defended himself, "I haven't done anything yet."

"I'm going to be quiet now," Garth murmured and Sam couldn't be more thankful.

For the next seventy miles or so they stayed quiet except for the occasional directions Sam needed to give. It was a suffocating silence. Sam could feel his skin tighten from the pressure in the car, his muscles trembling with every move when he was trying to make as little sound as possible. It was ridiculous really. Almost as ridiculous as John blaming them for something they hadn't yet done.

It was still an early morning with the bleak sun hiding behind a curtain of gray shapeless clouds and Sam couldn't help but think that they represented his mood perfectly. He found himself wondering what the sheriffs were doing and whether Future Sam and Dean had already gotten to Hell and Purgatory.

"Good morning, gentlemen," a sudden voice spoke from the left of him and Sam jumped in his seat as John swerved the car almost off the road in the scare.

Between him and Garth there suddenly was a body clad in back and Sam quickly recognized him as the demon Crowley. He pressed himself against the door trying to get some distance if he had any hope of self-defense whatsoever.

"Jesus Christ," Dean grabbed at the dashboard to steady himself before throwing a startled look back. "The hell?" He groaned seeing the demon in the backseat.

Sam would have given a stronger response than that but he was still too shocked to remember how his vocal cords worked.

John finally managed to safely guide the car to the shoulder before turning around in his seat with the silver knife in hand.

"How did you get here?" He growled out.

"I hid in the trunk, what do you think?" Crowley rolled his eyes.

However, when he was met with three unamused glares he sighed in defeat.

"I did this," he said before suddenly disappearing like he was never there. The sight forced the air in Sam's throat to catch and he coughed in shock.

They all looked around in stunned silence before noticing the man standing in front of the car surrounded by the car's lights. He waved at them like they were old friends before he disappeared in thin air again.

Only to show up in the back seat again.

"Stop doing that," Dean growled at the same time Garth laughed.

"Cool."

Sam just closed his eyes and forced his heart to calm down before it broke through his ribs. "Dear God," he whispered.

"What do you want?" John remained unimpressed. Just because Sam had spent his whole life around the man he noticed the slightly tighter hold on the blade's handle. John's knuckles peeking white under the strain.

"I was to tell everyone that Sam and Dean," he looked at both Sam and his brother, "slightly bigger versions of you two have left for Hell and Purgatory."

"Fine," John growled and waved his knife in a dismissing motion. "You can go now." He was clearly trying to get the demon away as soon as possible.

"Oh, come on!" Crowley groaned. "This is so much fun. I'd rather stay, if you don't mind," He smirked.

"I mind," John glared but the demon only scoffed before a sly smirk appeared on his face.

"Let's make a deal."

John was unimpressed and Sam didn't blame him. He had read enough lore to know what happened if you made a deal with a devil.

"You stop pointing that toothpick at me," Crowley continued raising an eyebrow at the knife. "And I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

John regarded him for a second waging out his option with a deep frown on his face. His eyes briefly darted to both Sam and Dean before he returned to the demon.

"Fine," he pulled back the blade but instead of packing it away he handed it to Dean with a grave voice. "Watch him."

"Wait," Sam objected. "Is it a good idea? We could mess with the order of the universe."

John started the car again and guided it back to the road with the demon comfortably resting in the backseat and giving him a mocking smirk,

"I'm a demon. I do what I want."

* * *

 **A/N Some pretty interesting conversations are coming up!**


End file.
